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The  Third  Yearbook 


OF  THE 


NATIONAL    SOCIETY    FOR   THE    SCIEN 
TIFIC  STUDY  OF  EDUCATION 


Part  II 
NATURE-STUDY 

BY 

Wilbur    S.  Jackman 

The  University  of  Chicago 


EDITED    BY 

MANFRED  J.  HOLMES 


MEETINGS    FOR    THE    DISCUSSION    OF    THIS     PAPER     WILL    BE    HELD    AT   4:00    P.  M. 

MONDAY,   JUNE    27,    AND    AT  4:30    P.  M.,    TUESDAY,   JUNE    28,    I9O4, 

ROOM    I,    HALL    OF    CONGRESSES,    WORLD'S 

FAIR    GROUNDS,  ST.  LOUIS 


CHICAGO 

THE    UNIVERSITY   OF    CHICAGO    PRESS 

1904 


COPYRIGHT,    1904,    BY 

Manfred   J.   Holmes 
Chicago,  Illinois 


NOTICE  TO  ACTIVE  MEMBERS. 

This  Yearbook  brings  before  the  National  Society  a  timely  and 
valuable  contribution  dealing  with  one  of  the  most  vital  problems  of 
the  elementary  course  of  study. 

Professor  Jackman  is  a  well-known  pioneer  and  leader  in  nature- 
study,  and  what  he  says  on  the  subject  will  command  the  attention 
of  all  serious  students  of  the  elementary-school  problem. 

There  will  no  doubt  be  a  large  attendance  of  active  members  at 
our  St.  Louis  meetings,  and  it  is  urged  that  each  member  make  a 
careful  study  of  the  paper  beforehand.  Experience  shows  clearly 
that  such  preliminary  study  is  necessary  to  appreciation  and  fair 
treatment  of  the  author,  and  that  without  it  our  meetings  cannot 
yield  their  highest  value. 

It  is  probably  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  members  of  the  Society 
that  the  discussion  should  be  on  the  paper,  and  that  those  who  have 
studied  it  should  be  given  preference  in  discussion.  Carefully  pre- 
pared discussions  will  be  valuable  for  the  Yearbook. 

It  will  do  much  to  extend  and  carry  out  the  work  of  the  Society 
if  members  will  form  local  round  tables  for  the  study  of  the  prob- 
lems discussed  in  the  Yearbooks.  Such  local  circles  can  get  extra 
books  at  a  reduction  of  one-fifth  the  retail  price  by  sending  directly 
to  The  University  of  Chicago  Press. 

Election  of  active  members  and  other  business  will  be  transacted 
at  the  Tuesday  meeting.  The  time  for  this  second  meeting  can  be 
changed,  if  necessary,  to  meet  the  convenience  of  the  members 
present. 

At  one  of  the  meetings  time  will  be  given  to  the  reception  of  five- 
to  ten-minute  reports  from  active  members  setting  forth  some  specific 
problem  they  are  at  work  upon,  showing  method  of  attacking  the 
problem,  and  indicating  results  when  results  have  been  reached. 
These  reports  ought  to  be  of  value  in  several  ways ;  but  first  of  all 
they  will  show  the  extent  to  which  scientific  spirit  and  method  are 
found  in  the  educational  field,  so  far  as  the  members  of  the  National 
Society  represent  that  field. 

It  is  believed  that  these  written  reports  will  be  one  of  the  most 
interesting  features  of  our  programs,  and,  at  the  discretion  of  the 
Executive  Committee,  may  be  printed  in  the  Yearbook.  Any  mem- 
ber having  such  report,  but  being  unable  to  attend  the  meetings,  is 
requested  to  send  it  to  the  Secretary. 


OFFICERS    AND    EXECUTIVE   COMMITTEE. 

Wilbur  S.  Jackman,  University  of  Chicago,  President. 
Charles  DeGarmo,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 
Charles  P.  Cary,  State  Superintendent,  Madison,  Wis. 
Reuben  Post  Halleck,  Male  High  School,  Louisville,  Ky. 
Charles  A.   McMurry,  Northern  Illinois   State   Normal   School, 

DeKalb,  111. 
Manfred  J.  Holmes,  Illinois  State  Normal  University,  Normal,  111., 

Secretary-Treasurer. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 

Foreword        -------_-_-_  g 

Chapter  I.    Introduction ____  g-21 

1.  Nature-Study  —  Its  General  Meaning          _        _        _        _        _  5 

2.  The  Unity  of  Nature-Study  and  Natural  Science        -        _        -  n 

3.  The  Nature  of  Observation --  15 

4.  Imaging   in   Nature-Study           -- 18 

Chapter  II.    The  Scope  of  Nature-Study -  22-43 

1.  Field- Work           ----_-___-  22 

2.  Nature- Study  and  Man  in  the  Landscape  -----  27 

3.  The  Farm    -----------  29 

4.  The  Garden          _----_-___  31 

5.  The  Dwelling      ----------  37 

6.  The    City     - -----  3g 

7.  Nature-Study  and  History  --------  41 

Chapter  III.    The  Study  of  Individuals  versus  That  of  Types      -  44-49 

Chapter  IV.    Nature-Study  and  Expression    -----  50-64 

1.  Color    --- -  50 

2.  Drawing       ----- 54 

3.  Modeling      -----------  55 

4.  Making          -----------  55 

5.  Reading  and  Writing  ---------  56 

6.  Music           ..-_------_.  62 

Chapter  V.    Number- Work  in  Nature-Study  -----  65-72 

1.  Dispersal  of  Seeds      ---------  69 

2.  Seasonal  Conditions:    Were  They  Favorable  or  Unfavorable?  70 

Chapter  VI.     Nature- Study    and    Morals        -----  73-81 

Appendix  A.    A  Record  in  Nature- Study 82-83 

Appendix  B.    Course  of  Study  --------  84-96 

Minutes  of  Meetings  Held  at  Atlanta,  Ga.,  February  22-25,  1904  97~99 

List  of  Active  Members       --- 100-103 


FOREWORD. 

In  placing  this  contribution  before  the  Society,  it  is  deemed  neces- 
sary to  offer  a  word  of  explanation  as  to  form  and  content.  Nature- 
study  is  not  a  matter  that  can  be  argued  into  the  schools,  nor  can  it 
be  established  by  tumbling  down  upon  them  a  great  load  of  miscel- 
laneous facts.  Neither  can  it  ever  play  any  important  part  in  educa- 
tion while  it  is  treated  as  a  thing  in  itself.  This  monograph  has  been 
prepared,  therefore,  with  three  points  in  mind:  (i)  that  nature- 
study  must  be  presented  in  accordance  with  the  general  principles  of 
psychology  which  apply  to  all  other  subjects ;  (2)  by  a  few  illustra- 
tions, to  show  how  it  is  necessary  to  start  with  great  general  views  or 
pictures  of  nature  and  to  proceed  gradually  to  the  details,  thus 
enabling  the  mind  as  it  grows,  to  organize  the  facts,  the  lesser  under 
the  greater,  at  every  step ;  (3)  that  nature-study  forms  but  a  part  of 
the  educational  work ;  its  relationships  reach  into  all  other  sub- 
jects which  go  to  make  up  the  whole.  The  aim  has  been  to  emphasize 
these  points  by  stating  reasons,  without  entering  upon  exhaustive 
arguments ;  by  suggesting  salient  centers  of  subject-matter,  without 
becoming  submerged  in  minute  details;  by  dealing  with  the  prin- 
ciples of  method,  without  prolonging  a  discussion  of  devices ;  and, 
finally,  by  carrying  through  the  whole  a  due  regard  for  the  needs  of 
the  young  and  growing  mind,  and  a  proper  consideration  for  its 
methods  and  modes  of  development. 

The  paper  embodies  the  best  results  of  the  author's  experience  of 
several  years  of  teaching  the  subject,  and  he  will  be  only  too  happy 
if  it  calls  forth  from  his  colleagues  and  many  friends  a  discussion 
that  will  point  the  way  to  better  things. 


THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 


NATURE-STUDY. 


CHAPTER   L 
INTRODUCTION. 

I.     nature-study:    its  general  meaning. 

The  spirit  of  nature-study  requires  that  the  pupils  be  inteUigently 
directed  in  the  study  of  their  immediate  environment  in  its  relation 
to  themselves ;  that  there  shall  be,  under  the  natural  stimulus  of  the 
desire  to  know,  a  constant  effort  at  a  rational  interpretation  of  the 
common  things  observed.  If  this  plan  be  consistently  pursued,  it 
will  naturally  follow  that  the  real  knowledge  acquired,  the  trust- 
worthy methods  developed,  and  the  correct  habits  of  observing  and 
imaging  formed  will  lay  a  sound  foundation  for  the  expansive  scien- 
tific study  which  gradually  creates  a  world-picture,  and  at  the  same 
time  enables  the  student,  by  means  of  the  microscope,  the  dissecting 
knife  and  the  alembic,  to  penetrate  intelligently  into  its  minute  details. 

The  study  of  nature  ultimately  resolves  itself  into  a  study  of 
energy.  The  great  aspects  under  which  energy  may  be  observed — 
color,  form,  and  force — are  presented  to  the  children  through  an 
inquiry  into  their  functions. 

In  nature-study  as  in  .everything  else,  the  work  must  begin 
with  what  the  individual  has  already  acquired,  and  it  should  pro- 
ceed from  this  according  to  the  natural  laws  of  mind-growth.  The 
pupil's  knowledge  of  nature,  which  must  be  recognized  as  the  basis 
for  further  study,  has  been  gathered  by  a  more  or  less  careful 
observation  of  his  surrounding  landscape.  The  function  of  the 
teacher  is  to  assist  the  learner  through  experiment,  and  by  following 
the  suggestions  derived  from  experience  in  an  elaboration  of  the 
details  of  this  great  indefinite  picture.  If  properly  conducted,  the 
study  will  lead  to  a  fuller  recognition  of  natural  laws  which  are 
simply  the  statement  of  the  sequence  of  phenomena,  that,  so  far  as 
observed,  remains  constant. 

9 


lo  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

It  is  a  fact  of  tremendous  import  for  teachers  to  remember  that 
there  can  be  no  rational  observation  of  anything  that  is  not  stimu- 
lated and  guided  by  the  suggestion  of  law.  This  is  true  whether 
the  pupil  is  a  child  or  an  adult.  Failure  to  understand  the  impor- 
tance of  this  point  is  responsible  for  the  unspeakable  confusion 
which  now  exists  in  most  teachers'  minds  regarding  the  selection 
and  presentation  of  material  in  nature-study.  The  examination 
by  children  into  the  minute  details  of  a  subject  is  not  only  a  physical 
impossibility,  but  it  is  also  an  absurdity,  for  the  simple  reason 
that  for  them  through  these  minutiae  there  can  be  no  manifestation 
of  law.  Illustrations  are  abundant.  The  older  botany,  when  tried 
with  the  children,  failed  for  precisely  this  reason.  The  children 
could  see,  physically,  the  venation,  margin,  shape,  etc.,  of  leaves; 
but  their  work  fell  below  true  observation,  and  consequently  interest 
died  out,  because  as  presented,  no  reason  or  law  suggested  itself  in 
explanation  of  these  facts.  When  the  same  facts  are  reached  through 
a  broad  presentation  of  the  plant's  relations  to  light,  heat,  and 
moisture,  they  at  once  become  true  and  interesting  objects  of 
observation  and  fruitful  sources  of  thought,  because  the  perceived 
relationships  suggest  reasons  that  explain  them.  The  same  is  true 
whatever  may  be  the  aspect  of  presentation — that  of  beauty  as  well 
as  that  of  use.  For  the  idea  of  beauty  rests  finally  upon  the 
perception  of  fitness,  of  adaptation ;  and  adaptation  points  to  the 
statement  of  a  law. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  it  is  here  maintained  that  everything 
done  in  nature-study  should  lead  at  once  to  an  actual  formulation 
of  law.  This  would  be  manifestly  impossible  and  absurd.  Many 
things  are  under  observation  at  present  for  which  the  wisest  cannot 
state  the  law  but  it  is  their  suggestion  in  that  direction  that  preserves 
interest  in  the  study.  The  sweep  of  the  seasons  is  a  fact  that 
may  be  so  presented  to  children  that  its  hint  of  law  will  stimulate 
active  observation  and  thought  long  before  any  formula  for  it  can 
be  stated. 

The  region  of  nature  is  for  the  child,  as  for  the  savage  and  the 
ignorant  man,  a  domain  of  mystery  and  of  fancy.  The  aim  of  the 
teacher  should  be  so  to  present  nature  and  its  various  manifestations 
that  the  reasonableness  of  things  shall  appear.  The  pupil  must  be 
trained  to  see  things,  as  nearly  as  he  can,  as  they  actually  exist,  and 
not  as   though   he   were   intoxicated   or   insane   or   in   a   delirium. 


INTRODUCTION  II 

There  is  no  reason  to  fear  that  this  will  rob  anyone  of  his  enjoy- 
ment of  nature,  or  that  it  will  reduce  it  at  one  stroke  to  the  level 
of  the  prosaic.  Truth  in  science  is  always  more  splendid  than 
fiction,  and  the  pictures  developed  by  the  imagination  out  of  real 
conditions  always  eclipse  those  that  are  conjured  up  by  flights 
of  fancy. 

II.       THE   UNITY   OF    NATURE-STUDY   AND   NATURAL   SCIENCE. 

In  a  general  survey  of  the  place  and  functions  of  nature-study 
it  is  quite  important  that  its  relation  to  the  more  technical  branches 
of  natural  science  should  be  duly  considered.  For  the  purpose  of 
properly  defining  a  subject  it  may  be  necessary  to  set  it  apart  in  a 
state  of  isolation  and  to  place  the  emphasis  upon  its  differences ; 
but  for  finding  the  full  measure  of  its  usefulness  it  is  of  far  greater 
importance  to  discover  its  true  relations. 

What  seems  to  be  an  almost  inherent  tendency  of  the  human 
being  to  worship  the  abstruse,  the  mystical,  and  the  learned  has 
never  been  more  amusingly  exemplified  than  in  the  disposition  of 
m.any  of  those  who  call  themselves  scientists  to  disown  nature-study 
and  to  deny  that  it  bears  any  particularly  useful  relation  to  their 
own  special  subjects.  This  refusal  to  recognize  nature-study  as 
a  part  of  science,  and  the  denial  that  its  methods  are  distinctly 
scientific,  have  done  much  to  discredit  the  subject  in  the  eyes  of 
teachers  and  pupils  and  the  public  at  large. 

The  objections  as  urged  may  have  been  valid,  in  some  degree, 
against  the  crude  and  rudimentary  methods  employed  in  the  begin- 
ning; these  nature-study  itself  disowns.  But  they  cannot  be  suc- 
cessfully maintained  against  the  study  when  it  is  properly  conducted. 
That  nature-study  is  the  forerunner,  the  direct  progenitor,  of  natural 
science  is  a  perfectly  obvious  and  most  helpful  truth  to  anyone 
who  will  fairly  consider  the  matter  and  the  methods  of  both. 

Nature-study  is  precisely  what  it  proclaims  itself  to  be—  the 
study  of  nature.  Its  subject-matter  lies  in  the  kingdoms  of  earth, 
air,  sky,  and  water;  it  embraces  a  search  for  knowledge  of  all 
phenomena  and  of  the  laws  by  which  these  are  associated.  Natural 
science  finds  all  of  its  subject-matter  in  the  same  fields,  and  it  pur- 
sues its  course  toward  the  same  end. 

In  nature-study  everything  depends  primarily  upon  the  integrity 
and  the  proper  use  of  the  senses.     Knowledge  becomes  clear  and 


12  THE   THIRD  YEARBOOK 

trustworthy  exactly  in  proportion  to  the  accuracy  with  which  the 
senses  furnish  the  data.  Natural  science  is  dependent  upon  the 
same  organs  and  upon  data  obtained  by  precisely  the  same  means. 

In  nature-study  the  value  of  the  subject  to  the  individual 
depends  upon  his  own  observation  and  investigation.  The  original 
and  personal  character  of  these  determine  the  rate  and  amount  of 
progress  that  an  individual  can  make.  It  is  this  point,  too,  that 
is  strongly  insisted  upon  in  natural  science.  Everything  is  open 
to  question  by  everyone.  Nothing  is  necessarily  assured  simply 
because  someone  else  has  claimed  to  have  made  the  observation. 

In  nature-study  the  aim  is  to  have  the  pupil  investigate  phe- 
nomena and  things  for  the  purpose  of  determining  their  relation. 
Nothing  is  studied  in  isolation.  By  such  methods  certain  relation- 
ships are  discovered  to  be  constant  and  the  pupil  early  gets  the  clue 
to  the  meaning  of  natural  law.  In  natural  science  the  aim  is  the 
same ;  the  student  seeks  then  the  study  of  natural  phenomena  for 
those  abiding  relations,  those  sequences  of  cause  and  effect,  the 
expression  of  which  becomes  the  statement  of  natural  law.  The 
determination  of  the  constant,  hence  natural,  order  of  phenomena 
is  the  ultimate  end  of  all  study.  It  is  the  task  of  the  scientist, 
the  historian,  the  philosopher  alike,  and  nature-study  represents 
but  a  primary  stage  of  the  same  thing.  There  is  no  actual  dividing 
line,  therefore,  between  the  pupil  in  nature-study  and  the  student 
of  natural  science.  The  motive,  the  material,  and  the  principles 
of  method  are  precisely  the  same.  In  practical  instruction,  however, 
the  characteristic  differences  are  encountered  in  teaching  these  sub- 
jects to  pupils  of  different  ages  that  are  met  with  in  other  studies 
of  the  curriculum. 

In  nature-study  with  children  the  teacher  has  to  deal  with 
untrained  senses  and  with  mental  powers  generally  undeveloped. 
The  pupil  is  unable  either  to  see  great  detail  or  to  grasp  relation- 
ships that  exist  among  the  minutiae  of  the  subject.  As  the  story 
told  by  the  pupil's  senses  is  vague  and  inaccurate  so  the  pictures 
of  his  incipient  imagination  are  erratic  and  fanciful.  He  must 
therefore  deal  with  larger  masses  than  are  necessary  with  the  trained 
student  of  science.  The  sights  must  be  more  vivid,  the  weights 
heavier,  the  relations  more  striking,  the  movements  more  pro- 
nounced, and  the  functions  more  obvious.  In  natural  science  the 
better-trained  student  discovers  minute  details  and  recognizes  more 


INTROD  UCTION  1 3 

delicate  relations.  It  is  upon  these  facts  that  a  true  system  of 
gradation  in  nature-study  and  science  must  rest.  The  attempt  is 
usually  made  to  establish  grades  by  changing  from  one  branch  of 
the  science  to  another  and  by  the  introduction  of  new  and  often 
unrelated  subject-matter.  This  is  done  partially  on  the  theory  that 
repetition  of  the  same  thing  becomes  tiresome,  which  is  true,  and 
partially  on  the  theory  that,  to  keep  alive  the  interest,  the  subject 
must  be  changed,  which  is  not  true.  Nothing  could  be  more  detri- 
mental to  the  genuine  development  of  the  pupil  than  the  continual 
snapping  of  his  thread  of  interest  which  is  involved  in  the  customary 
plans  of  gradation.  The  materials  and  phenomena  of  nature  as 
subject-matter  for  study  do  not  in  themselves  actually  change ; 
the  continual  and  growing  interest  in  the  same  thing,  therefore, 
must  always  be  preserved. 

Nor  is  the  distinction  between  nature-study  and  science,  some- 
times made,  that  the  results  in  the  latter  may  be  more  quantitative 
than  in  the  former,  a  valid  one.  Such  results  in  nature-study  are 
possible  and  proper  in  any  particular  field  when  the  student  of  science 
would  find  them  desirable,  and  necessary.  For  example,  in  all  study 
of  physical  force  there  is  but  one  line  open  to  the  student  who 
attempts  to  investigate,  whether  he  is  six  years  old  or  sixty,  and  that 
is  to  find  out  its  value ;  this  can  be  done  only  by  measuring  it. 

The  pupil  very  soon  exhausts  the  qualitative  aspects  of  such  a 
subject,  if  indeed  he  has  not  already  done  so  before  he  enters  school. 
By  this  it  is  not  meant  that  the  pupil  from  the  beginning  must  be 
asked  to  run  down  the  result  to  the  last  decimal  point  in  an 
indefinite  series.  In  the  outset  it  may  involve  none  of  the  usual 
units  at  all.  He  may  get  the  result  in  terms  of  which  he  can  himself 
lift  or  push  or  pull,  or  otherwise  physically  accomplish.  It  is  only 
then  that  he  actually  finds  the  need  of  the  unit,  pound,  foot,  gallon, 
etc. ;  it  is  as  these  gradually  become  definite  in  his  mind  that  the 
fractional  part  has  any  value  to  him. 

Where  the  average  student  of  science  might  be  able  to  develop 
the  picture  he  seeks  by  the  analysis  of  a  single  leaf,  or  of  a  drop  of 
water,  or  of  an  ounce  of  earth,  the  beginner  in  nature-study  must 
use  bushels,  gallons,  or  pounds.  There  are  two  reasons  for  this : 
first,  the  pupil's  undeveloped  imagination  must  picture  in  the  large 
—  he  cannot  think  in  grains  of  sand ;  and  second,  because,  unskilled 
in  manipulation,  the  liability  to  losses  during  experimentation  with 


14  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

the  small  quantities,  enormously  increases  the  percentage  of  error. 
True  nature-study,  therefore,  is  natural  science,  and  its  methods  are 
strictly  scientific. 

It  is  not  here  sought  to  establish  merely  an  identity  of  terms. 
Failure  to  recognize  the  true  relation  of  the  different  parts  of  the 
subject  has  helped  to  emphasize  the  break  that  is  already  too  pro- 
nounced between  the  elementary  and  the  higher  schools.  Believing 
that  there  is  some  radical  difference,  the  high-school  teachers,  as  a 
rule,  make  but  little  effort  to  prepare  a  course  of  study  that  substan- 
tially continues  the  work  of  nature-study.  The  consequent  abrupt 
change  of  method  and  material  simply  adds  to  the  loss  that  the  pupil 
suffers  in  other  directions  in  this  transition  stage.  The  study  of 
nature  is  the  same,  regardless  of  the  age  of  the  student.  It  will 
be  a  great  step  in  advance  when  all  teachers  recognize  this,  and 
so  plan  the  course  of  study  that  the  pupil  will  not  find  it  necessary 
to  unlearn,  ignore,  or  forget  what  he  has  learned  in  earlier  stages. 
Every  step  taken  should  be  a  substantial  preparation  for  the  next 
throughout  the  course  from  the  kindergarten  to  the  university. 
This  plan  would  also  immensely  strengthen  the  elementary  teachers, 
and  give  stability,  tone,  and  dignity  to  the  work  that  it  has  seldom 
yet  assumed.  No  teacher  can  put  the  best  into  his  work  when  he 
feels  that  he  is  engaged  simply  in  "busy  work,"  which  must  serve 
as  entertainment,  at  least,  for  the  moment.  It  is  not  so  in  other 
subjects,  and  this  fact  contributes  not  a  little  to  the  strength  of  the 
position  they  hold  in  the  curriculum.  Every  scrap  of  history,  for 
example,  that  the  pupil  learns  anywhere  in  his  course  is  accounted 
for  as  he  passes  from  grade  to  grade  and  from  the  grades  to  the 
high  school.  But  not  so  with  science  ;  some  misguided  high-school, 
and  even  college,  teachers  have  gone  so  far  as  to  say  that  they  would 
prefer  to  have  their  pupils  come  to  them  with  no  elementary  work 
—  a  most  preposterous  position  to  assume.  When  the  teachers 
from  lowest  to  highest  feel  that  all  the  good  work  they  do  will 
receive  due  recognition ;  when  each  understands  that  the  true  ele- 
mentary work  is  as  essential  and  fundamental  as  the  more  refined 
which  is  done  farther  along,  then  for  the  first  time  shall  we  be  in 
the  proper  attitude  of  mind  to  develop  a  science  course  that  will  at 
once  add  strength  to  the  curriculum  and  be  a  valuable  contribution 
as  a  means  to  the  development  of  the  pupil. 


IN  TROD  UCTION  1 5 

III.       THE  NATURE  OF  OBSERVATION, 

One-  of  the  serious  obstacles  in  the  way  of  securing  the  best 
results  in  nature-study  is  that  few  teachers  fully  understand  the 
nature  and  function  of  true  observation.  The  primary  reason  for 
having  introduced  this  study,  as  well  as  its  ancestor,  the  object- 
lesson,  into  the  school,  was  that.it  offered  a  direct  means  of  sense- 
training.  It  is  generally  understood  that  sense-training  is  peculiarly 
necessary  in  nature-study,  but  it  is  not  so  clearly  recognized  that 
all  education  finally  rests  upon  it. 

Education  depends  upon  observation.  Whether  it  is  in  the 
domain  of  natural  science,  where,  obviously,  knowledge  is  gained 
by  presentation  of  objects  and  phenomena  to  the  senses,  or  in  the 
field  of  history,  where  the  lessons  are  to  be  interpreted  and  applied 
to  life  in  its  present  condition,  observation  is  of  fundamental 
importance. 

The  most  serious  mistake  made  in  dealing  with  the  subject  of 
observation  is  that  of  treating  it  as  though  it  were  wholly  an  affair 
of  the  senses.  Educative  observation  depends  not  more  upon  the 
senses  than  it  does  upon  the  mental  attitude  of  the  observer.  It  is 
quite  as  much  a  concern  of  attention  as  it  is  of  eyesight  or  hearing. 
It  is  the  function  of.  observation  to  furnish  data ;  these  data  form  the 
basis  for  determining  relations  —  ultimately  the  mutual  relations 
of  form  and  function.  The  great  fault  to  be  avoided  therefore, 
in  planning  and  conducting  work  in  observation,  is  that  of  insisting 
upon  presentation  of  objects  or  parts  of  objects  that  make  no 
appeal  through  either  their  function  or  their  form.  When  this  is 
done,  it  is  inevitable  that  the  interest  must  be  spurred  on  by 
factitious  means  which  never  come  from  honest  purpose  and  never 
lead  directly  to  real  knowledge.  Through  this  mistake,  chiefly, 
arise  all  the  difficulties  pertaining  to  the  various  forms  of  expression. 

Observation  is  the  mother  of  inference;  given  the  former,  the 
latter  is  inevitable.  Nothing  points  more  clearly  to  the  distinct 
personality  of  each  human  being  than  the  fact  that  no  two  persons 
will  make  exactly  the  same  inference  regarding  an  object  which 
they  observe  in  common.  Each  observes  from  a  point  of  view  that 
is  slightly  different  from  that  occupied  by  the  other,  and  his  infer- 
ences vary  accordingly.  This  may  lead  to  endless  contention ;  but 
discussion  respecting  the  meaning  of  facts  is  always  healthy  until 


1 6  THE  THIRD   YEARBOOK 

those  engaged  refuse  to  repeat  their  observations  that  their  infer- 
ences may  be  corrected.  The  natural  test  for  the  extent  and 
correctness  of  an  observation  Hes  in  the  expression  which  the  indi- 
vidual is  able  to  give  respecting  it.  While  it  is  not  uncommon  for 
one  to  say  that  he  sees  and  knows  m.ore  than  he  can  express,  it  is 
doubtful  if  this  is  ever  true.  The  technique  of  expression  in  all 
its  forms  is  exceedingly  simple.  For  instance,  in  expressing  him- 
self through  a  drawing,  the  pupil  is  required  to  do  so  by  means  of 
lines,  straight  and  curved,  which  he  can  draw  with  little  or  no 
trouble.  The  real  difficulty  lies  in  putting  the  lines  together  at  their 
proper  angle,  and  in  their  right  relation.  But  this  does  not  belong 
to  the  technique  of  expression  ;  the  inability  to  represent  by  drawing 
must  be  referred,  therefore,  to  the  fact  that  the  image  is  indistinct 
as  a  result  of  insufficient  observation. 

Again,  in  language,  it  is  possible  to  describe  things,  most  com- 
plex, by  the  use  of  words  that  are  employed  in  common  speech ; 
yet  it  is  not  uncommon  for  the  pupils  to  say  that  they  can  see  more 
than  they  can  tell,  although  their  ability  to  talk  may  be  beyond 
question. 

In  modeling,  the  clay  is  most  plastic.  It  readily  yields  to  treat- 
ment; but  there  are  comparatively  few  who  can  bring  it  into  a 
form  which  corresponds  to  the  object  observed.  This  is  clearly  not 
the  fault  of  the  material  used,  nor  of  the  ability  of  the  pupil  to  mold 
it ;  but  the  difficulty  lies  rather  in  an  imperfect  image  that  has 
been  obtained  through  faulty  or  deficient  observation. 

The  accuracy  and  the  extent  of  an  observation  depend  upon  the 
purpose  which  controls  the  one  who  is  making  it.  It  is  usually 
true  that  the  desired  knowledge  concerning  an  object  may  be 
obtained  through  a  partial  examination,  and  the  observation  upon 
this  point  will  be  clear  in  proportion  to  the  importance  of  the 
knowledge.  All  other  knowledge  of  the  object,  which  is  absolutely 
necessary  if  we  are  to  have  an  image  of  it  clear  enough  to  enable 
us  fully  to  represent  it  by  any  means  of  expression,  is  weak  and 
defective  because  the  observation  has  not  been  intense. 

Drawing,  painting,  modeling,  etc.,  are  difficult,  therefore,  because 
they  require  an  accuracy  and  extent  of  observation  which  is  not 
considered  absolutely  necessary  by  most  people.  For  example,  one 
may  know,  for  all  practical  purposes  of  his  life,  the  house  in  which 
he  lives,  and  yet  he  may  be  utterly  unable  to  represent  that  house 


IN  TROD  UCTION  1 7 

in  a  drawing.  That  is,  while  he  may  know  the  proper  number  of 
windows  in  the  front,  he  would  fail,  perhaps,  in  getting  the  due 
proportions  of  each  window,  and  this  would  be  because  that  par- 
ticular observation  had  never  been  called  out  by  any  function  that 
the  house  or  window  had  performed  for  him.  The  window  allowed 
light  to  come  into  the  interior,  and  he  learned  to  know  it  from  this 
function,  but  he  learned  nothing  more. 

So  in  the  study  of  a  tree.  The  lumberman  recognizes  a  tree  by 
signs,  most  superficial,  because  his  knowledge  may  end  with  know- 
ing the  kind  of  wood.  The  nurseryman  by  a  glance  merely  at  the 
fruit  recognizes  the  different  kinds  of  apple  trees  in  his  orchard. 
Both,  however,  might  utterly  fail  in  an  attempt  to  draw  the  tree, 
because  its  function,  so  far  as  they  are  concerned,  has  not  demanded 
that  close  and  specific  observation  of  form  which  must  precede  any 
drawing. 

The  fact  seems  to  be  that  most  people  see  just  enough  of  an 
object  to  enable  them  to  dodge  it.  Very  much  observation,  so  called, 
results  in  nothing  more  than  a  mere  consciousness  of  the  presence 
of  the  object.  No  image  of  educative  value  is  formed.  It  will  be 
a  surprise  to  anyone  to  scrutinize  closely  the  impressions  received 
from  an  object,  even  after  looking  steadfastly  at  it  for  some  time. 
He  will  find  that  he  has  been  impressed  chiefly  by  those  character- 
istics and  properties  which  indicate  a  particular  function.  Other 
characteristics  and  properties,  no  matter  how  important,  lie  indis- 
tinctly in  the  background  of  his  consciousness,  and  it  requires  con- 
siderable effort,  on  returning  to  the  observation,  to  bring  them  to 
their  proper  relation  in  the  image. 

Observation,  therefore,  does  not  become  a  vital  part  of  the  educa- 
tional process  because  we  wish  to  train  the  senses,  but  rather  because 
we  wish  the  senses  to  train  the  individual.  They  can  fulfil  their 
mission  in  furnishing  data  regarding  the  outside  world  only  when 
the  mind  has  been  prepared  through  the  impulse  of  a  strong  motive 
to  receive  them.  The  value  of  observation  cannot  be  determined, 
primarily,  by  the  character  of  the  object  presented,  but,  rather,  by 
the  attitude  of  mind  which  the  pupil  brings  to  it,  or  which  the  object 
before  him  can  induce  and  control.  Like  all  other  educational  prob- 
lems, observation  finally  resolves  itself  into  one  of  purpose  or 
motive.     There  is  no  escape  from  this,  and  the  only  way  to  have  it 


1 8  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

perform  its  proper  function  in  nature-study  is  to  be  governed  by 
the  appeal  which  a  generous  presentation  of  nature  makes  to  the 
child. 

IV.       IMAGING    IN    NATURE-STUDY. 

The  direct  purpose  of  observation  is  the  development  of  an 
image.  That  it  often  falls  short  of  this  is  a  fact  which  will  largely 
account  for  lack  of  interest  m  study,  muddled  thinking,  and  waste  of 
time  in  education.  Until  an  image  of  the  thing  desired  is  clearly 
formed  in  the  mind,  it  is  useless,  and  worse,  to  attempt  to  take  the 
next  step.  Until  this  is  done,  in  fact,  there  is  no  next  step  to  be 
taken.  To  overemphasize  the  importance  of  external  presentation, 
and  to  underemphasize  the  importance  of  the  resulting  mental 
product,  is  the  mark  of  much  poor  teaching.  This  mistake  is  largely 
due  to  the  intangible  and  indefinable  nature  of  the  image  which  in 
itself  is  the  mystery  of  mysteries. 

When  an  object  or  a  physical  phenomenon  is  presented  to  one  or 
more  of  the  senses,  an  effect  is  produced  that  in  no  conceivable 
manner  can  be  said  to  resemble  the  cause.  The  phenomenon  of 
vibration  derived  from  a  blow  by  a  hammer  striking  some  object 
may  be  traced  along  purely  material  channels,  and  its  rate  of  move- 
ment is  but  a  problem  in  mathematical  physics.  At  a  given  point, 
however,  its  physical  identity  is  lost,  and  in  its  stead  there  flashes 
out  a  mental  phenomenon  which  remains.  Assuming  the  integrity 
of  the  senses,  each  normal  individual  must  bear  witness  to  the  con- 
stant correspondence  between  the  physical  presentation  and  the 
psychic  result  which  is  called  an  image.  It  is  not  properly  an 
image,  though,  if  there  is  associated  with  this  word  its  ordinary 
meaning.  An  image  is  a  likeness  or  a  counterpart.  The  mental 
image  is  not  a  likeness,  but  a  result  which  is  remarkable  in  its 
unlikeness  to  the  cause.  In  the  process  of  living,  during  the  con- 
scious hours  there  is  a  continual  effort,  first,  to  interpret  these 
psychic  results  —  that  is,  to  refer  them  to  the  proper  material  source  ; 
and,  second,  to  organize  them  —  that  is,  to  discover  by  what  rela- 
tions they  are  associated.  These  operations  are  to  the  end  that  one 
may  obtain  his  bearings  and  preserve  his  proper  place  in  the  scheme 
of  creation.  The  process  of  education  is  the  systematized  attempt 
to  economize  this  effort.  It  accomplishes  its  purpose  only  as  it 
keeps  unobstructed  the  pathway  between  the  physical  and  psychic 
phenomena,  and  so  far  as  it  discovers  methods  of  interpretation  and 


IN  TROD  UCTION  1 9 

organization  that  can  be  applied  under  the  proper  motive  in  deaHng 
with  psychic  results  or  images. 

Mental  images,  although  bearing  no  resemblance  to  each  other, 
may  be  considered  as  related  when  they  can  be  referred  to  the 
same  external  source.  The  sound  of  the  hammer  striking  the  nail, 
the  appearance  of  its  falling  through  the  air,  the  sinking  of  the 
nail  into  the  wood,  all  give  rise  to  images,  that  it  is  impossible  to 
compare  with  each  other ;  yet  they  are  related,  since  they  are  referred 
to  a  common  cause.  When  the  psychic  results  of  the  sight  giving 
color,  and  of  the  sight  giving  the  effect  of  the  blow  upon  the  nail, 
and  of  the  sound  giving  the  nature  of  the  substance,  are  interpreted 
as  belonging  to  the  same  thing,  the  hammer,  they  become  organized 
at  once  as  the  related  parts  of  the  image  of  the  hammer,  which  has 
a  certain  form,  weight,  and  substance.  Psychic  results  may  be  pro- 
duced from  outside  occurrences  which  follow  in  immediate  sequence 
in  time,  or  which  may  take  place  simultaneously ;  yet  this  time- 
relationship  alone  will  not  admit  of  their  being  organized  into  an 
image  in  the  educative  sense.  As  the  hammer  falls,  a  bird  may 
fly  across  the  field  of  vision ;  but  the  psychic  result  of  the  latter 
bears  no  educative  relation  to  those  derived  from  the  hammer. 

In  nature-study,  the  landscape,  embodying  the  entire  field  of 
observation,  presents  itself  to  the  beginner  as  a  great  composite  of 
confused  parts ;  and  to  most  people,  perhaps,  it  always  remains  so. 
It  should  be  the  aim  of  instruction  to  assist  the  pupil  to  refer  the 
separate  and  more  or  less  confused  mental  impressions  to  the  appro- 
priate source,  and,  as  this  is  done,  to  organize  those  referred  to  the 
same  source  into  a  clear  and  definite  image.  The  landscape  is 
revealed  to  the  observer  through  its  color,  the  initial  interest  being 
roused  through  the  aesthetic  sense.  Everything,  therefore,  which 
involves  color  can  be  referred  to  a  common  external  source,  namely, 
light.  All  color-impressions,  consequently,  become  organized  in 
the  mind,  since  they  are  related  to  a  common  cause.  Whether  it 
is  the  foliage  of  a  tree  or  the  decorative  colors  of  a  room,  the 
questions  arising  in  both  are  solved  by  this  relation  to  the  one  thing 
—  light.  Still  further,  in  plants  many  of  the  myriad  varieties  in 
form  are  nothing  but  inextricable  confusion  until  their  relationship 
to  light  is  recognized ;  then  the  seeming  confusion  of  forms  becomes 
an  orderly  array.  Even  two  structures  so  extreme  in  their  unlike- 
ness  to  each  other  as  a  leaf  and  the  human  eye  become  related, 


20  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

from  the  fact  that  each  represents  a  concession  of  the  organism  to 
the  same  controlHng  cause  found  in  Hght.  A  large  number  of 
landscape  phenomena,  therefore,  may  be  grouped  together,  from 
which  there  will  be  formed  an  image  of  related  parts  representing 
the  effects  of  light.  Another  group  of  phenomena  will  be  referred 
in  the  same  way  to  heat,  another  to  moisture,  another  to  soil,  and 
so  on.  The  channeling  of  the  grass  blade  and  the  bladdery  vesicles 
of  submerged  plants  as  isolated  facts  are  of  little  importance.  But 
when  one  is  recognized  as  a  dew-spout  and  the  other  as  a  swim- 
bladder,  and  that  both  are  an  attempt  to  make  friends  with  water, 
they  become  the  organized  parts  of  an  image  that  is  fundamental 
in  the  study  of  botany.  Imaging  thus  begun  opens  the  way  to 
endless  study.  Simple  enough  in  the  outset  to  be  clear  to  the  child, 
the  last  step  in  scientific  research  is  but  the  latest  attempt  of  the 
trained  mind  to  define  more  clearly  the  same  image. 

The  chief  reason  why  observation  is  slow  and  tedious  is  that 
sufficient  aid  in  defining  the  image  is  not  given  through  adequate 
expression.  Expression  is  usually  confined  to  one  or  two  modes, 
whereas  observation  furnishes  the  data  for  a  many-sided  image 
which  may  need  all  the  modes  of  expression  to  define  it  properly. 
People  are  continually  wrestling  with  form,  but  they  have  almost 
no  training  in  the  development  of  form  through  the  production  of 
a  model.  They  are  continually  called  upon  to  distinguish  colors, 
but  expression  through  color  has  been  practically  unknown  to  most 
adults  of  the  present  time.  Even  in  oral  and  written  expression 
the  pupils  are  enormously  delayed  by  being  compelled  to  deal  with 
these  modes  in  the  beginning  from  the  side  of  technique  rather  than 
from  that  of  content.  It  seems  to  require  endless  time  for  teachers 
to  learn  that  it  is  content  which  furnishes  the  motive  to  define  an 
image,  that  must  control  technique  in  every  form  of  expression.  To 
attempt  to  teach  technique  beyond  the  demand  of  image-growth,  or 
apart  from  it,  is  both  to  destroy  the  growth  and  defeat  the  real  pur- 
pose of  art-study.  Even  in  most  schools  where  the  various  modes 
of  expression  are  employed  the  desultory  character  of  the  work 
growing  out  of  and  coupled  with  a  corresponding  desultory  kind 
of  observation  tends  to  dissipate,  rather  than  to  conserve  and 
strengthen,  the  pupil's  power  to  image.  If  observation  is  of  the 
highest  educational  character,  the  imagination  is  constantly  called 
upon  to  arrange  the  different  parts  of  the  growing  image  in  the 


INTRODUCTION  21 

proper  order.  Nature-study  then  becomes  more  than  a  simple 
amassing  of  facts ;  it  involves  also  the  organization  into  a  rational 
and  consistent  whole.  Science  itself  is  nothing  more.  This  kind 
of  image-growth  is  educational  because  it  is  rationally  continuous. 
No  other  kind  of  imaging  is  worth  the  trouble.  The  demand  for 
details  by  an  ever-incompleted  image  impels  that  research  which 
always  marks  the  true  student  of  nature. 


CHAPTER  11. 
THE    SCOPE   OF   NATURE-STUDY. 

I.       FIELD-WORK. 

With  that  conception  of  nature-study  which  has  already  been 
set  forth  it  follows  that  the  children  must  lay  the  foundation  for 
their  knowledge  by  direct  contact  with  nature  under  normal  condi- 
tions. This  end  is  to  be  attained  by  a  variety  of  investigations, 
which  for  convenience  may  be  classed  under  the  head  of  field-work. 
It  is  not  intended,  here,  to  limit  this  to  the  mere  collecting  tours,  but 
rather  to  expand  the  meaning  so  that  it  may  include  all  the  great 
aspects  of  life  outside  the  schoolroom  which  may  be  conveniently 
studied.  Field-work  of  this  kind  is  usually  done  so  irregularly,  and 
with  such  a  lack  of  well-conceived  plan  on  the  part  of  the  teacher,  that 
it  often  falls  quite  short  of  having  its  full  educative  value.  The 
following  principles,  in  accord  with  which  outdoor  work  may  be 
conducted,  are  offered  as  the  basis  of  a  plan  that  may  be  generally 
applied  to  the  different  aspects  of  field-work. 

I.  Each  study  should  begin  with  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the 
landscape  as  a  zvhole. —  In  thus  treating  the  landscape,  it  should 
not  be  regarded  as  a  great  composite  of  confused  facts,  but  as  an 
organism  of  tremendous  strength,  having  the  relations  of  its  parts 
balanced  with  the  greatest  delicacy. 

Evidence  of  its  strength,  for  example,  may  be  witnessed  in  any 
garden  or  cultivated  field.  In  the  area  of  cultivation  the  foster-plant 
is  brought  into  competition  with  wild  ones  that,  in  their  own  way, 
have  made  themselves  possessors  of  the  ground.  It  may  be  assumed 
that  the  conditions  are  generally  favorable  for  the  cultivated  plant, 
or  man  would  not  have  selected  it  for  this  particular  spot.  In 
addition  to  this,  in  most  cases  it  requires  the  vigorous  use  of  the 
best  implements  that  the  wit  of  man  has  yet  devised  to  enable  the 
plant  to  maintain  itself  against  the  onslaughts  of  the  aborigines  of 
the  soil.  There  is  not  a  cultivated  plant  in  existence  that  would 
dare  match  itself,  single-handed,  in  a  race  against  the  common 
garden  purslain  or  pigweed  on  its  own  ground.     As  soon  as  a  child 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  23 

is  old  enough  to  follow  the  growth  of  plants  through  a  single  season 
and  to  take  some  little  part  in  their  cultivation,  he  cannot  but  be 
impressed  that  this  mighty  support  which  nature  gives  to  her  own 
is  something  miore  than  accident.  In  his  realization  of  this  fact 
is  a  stimulus  that  will  drive  him  to  examine,  according  to  his  skill, 
the  leaf,  the  root,  the  stem,  the  seed,  the  soil,  and  all  that  has 
contributed  to  the  victory  of  the  one  and  the  discomfiture  or  defeat 
of  the  other. 

The  delicacy  of  the  balance  that  exists  among  the  parts  of  the 
landscape  is  scarcely  exceeded  by  the  sensitiveness  of  the  poise 
maintained  by  the  organs  of  the  living  body.  The  slightest  change 
anywhere  is  sufficient  to  destroy  the  balance  abruptly  and  cause  a 
readjustment  of  all  the  adjacent  parts.  The  drying  out  of  a  marsii 
is  marked  year  by  year  with  a  gradual  reorganization  of  the  flora 
and  fauna.  The  falling  of  a  tree  in  the  midst  of  a  forest  allows  a 
few  shafts  of  light  to  fall  unhindered  upon  the  ground.  Forthwith 
the  shade-loving  plants  are  driven  from  the  spot,  and  grass  sets  in 
and  works  its  way  in  all  directions,  literally,  according  to  its  light. 
The  gradually  changing  course  of  a  stream  is  continually  reorganiz- 
ing the  life  in  the  valley.  The  advent  of  a  stray  plant  or  seed 
may  light  the  torch  of  conquest.  Driven  almost  to  desperation  by 
the  chance  introduction  of  the  Russian  thistle,  the  farmers  of  the 
Northwest  have  besought  government  aid  as  they  would  against  an 
army  with  banners. 

Such  a  presentation  of  the  landscape,  by  its  simplicity  and 
breadth,  will  not  only  attract  the  attention  and  enlist  the  interest 
of  the  children  for  the  time  being,  but  it  will  also  place  them  at 
once  in  line  with  the  best  materials  and  methods  of  science. 

2.  In  proceeding  from  the  landscape  to  its  details,  the  study 
should  be  directed  to  its  related  parts,  not  merely  to  unrelated  frag- 
ments. From  the  whole  to  the  parts  in  this  instance  does  not  mean 
from  the  zvhole  to  the  pieces. —  Almost  any  stretch  of  landscape  will 
present  some  evidences  of  an  underlying  unity.  Within  the  general 
scope,  certain  aspects  or  phases  in  its  appearance  will  indicate  minor 
related  unities.  Thus,  in  general,  a  landscape  may  include  a  valley 
or  a  stretch  of  prairie,  each  having  a  certain  completeness.  Within 
this  there  will  be  slopes,  or  marshes,  or  ridges,  or  lakes ;  and  each 
of  these  aspects  will  be  found  to  stand  as  secondary  centers  of 
organization  for  the  plants  and  animals ;    and,  still  further,  each 


24  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

minor  center  may  be  resolved  yet  into  others,  which  have  an 
organizing  influence  within  the  whole.  The  rational  study  of  a 
landscape  involves  nothing  but  the  study  of  the  relations  that  exist 
among  its  parts. 

The  course  of  a  stream  is  the  dominating  organizing  influence  in 
a  valley.  But  each  slope,  especially  if  the  stream  lies  east  and  west, 
will  have  an  organizing  individuality  of  its  own.  The  writer 
recalls  two  such  slopes  which  supported  the  two  species  of  a  genus 
of  plants.  Each  species,  however,  was  confined  entirely  to  its  own 
particular  hillside,  though  the  valley  was  not  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  width. 

Each  slope  will  present  in  itself  different  centers  of  organization. 
Even  the  casual  observation  of  children  will  show  that  it  is  some- 
thing more  than  accident  that  segregates  the  plants  with  the  fine 
capillary  roots  on  the  sandy  crest,  and  that  it  is  more  than  coinci- 
dence that  groups  the  thicker-fascicled  roots  in  the  alluvial  bottoms. 

Even  a  single  living  tree  becomes  an  interesting  center  for  study. 
It  is  beset  by  many  things  that  without  it  could  not  possibly  exist. 
The  green  algae  on  one  side  and  not  on  the  other  speak  of  the 
contrasts  of  heat  which  it  affords.  The  moss  clustering  at  its  base, 
and  ascending  the  stem  in  a  thinner  layer,  accurately  measures  the 
area  of  moisture  furnished  by  its  capillary  bark ;  while  the  papery 
lichens  take  undisputed  possession  of  the  dryer  areas  above.  Its 
dried  and  riven  bark  furnishes  protection  for  crowds  of  insects 
that  find  shelter  in  the  crevices,  and  these  in  their  turn  become  the 
chief  attraction  for  a  vigilant  host  of  birds.  Even  when  dead 
and  prostrate  it  is  a  center  of  no  less  activity.  Beset  by  a  new 
race  of  animals  and  plants,  it  remains  a  determining  influence  upon 
a  considerable  community  until  the  last  vestige  is  returned  to  the 
original  elements.  Here  again  a  broad  presentation  brings  the  pupil 
at  once  face  to  face  with  nature  at  work.  He  acquires  some  notion 
of  the  dynamism  in  creation,  which  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom. 

3.  The  landscape  as  a  composite  whole  presents  several  series 
of  aspects,  each  of  which  includes  a  well-defined  succession  of  events. 
—  These  may  be  described  as : 

a)  The  transitory  and  somewhat  irregular  changes ;  as,  for 
example,  those  caused  by  the  movement  of  a  cloud  over  the  sun, 
the  passing  of  a  storm,  the  work  of  a  flood,  etc. 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  25 

h)  The  seasonal :  those  which  accompany  the  changes  of  tem- 
perature and  other  modifying  climatic  influences. 

The  observations  under  this  division  should  take  several 
directions : 

(i)  Toward  a  determination  of  the  amount  of  sunshine.  With 
the  younger  pupils,  the  variation  in  proportion  to  the  day's  length 
and  to  the  amount  of  cloudiness  can  be  understood.  With  older 
pupils,  the  relative  values  of  sunshine,  also,  determined  by  the  vary- 
ing slant,  can  be  calculated  from  measurements  easily  made. 

(2)  Toward  a  determination  of  the  temperature  of  the  air,  of  the 
soil  at  different  depths,  and  of  bodies  of  water. 

(3)  Toward  a  determination  of  the  amount  of  moisture  in  the 
soil  at  different  depths  and  in  the  air. 

(4)  Toward  a  determination  of  the  amount  of  rainfall,  and  the 
distribution  of  rainy  days  through  the  year. 

(5)  Toward  a  determination  of  the  amount  of  water,  ash,  and 
other  constituents  in  plants  at  different  periods  of  growth. 

(6)  Toward  a  study  of  all  the  habits  of  plants  and  animals  — 
germination,  growth,  maturity,  nesting,  feeding,  migration,  etc. — 
that  are  associated  with  the  season  and  conditioned  by  it.  The  pres- 
entation need  not  be  in  accord  with  any  fixed  order;  the  topics 
indicate  merely  the  general  observations  that  should  be  made. 

c)  Those  operations  resting  upon  profound  causes,  which, 
gradual  and  subtle,  effect  radical  and  permanent  changes.  Thus 
the  slow  drainage  of  a  marsh  (it  may  be  for  the  purpose  of  agri- 
culture), the  denudation  of  the  country  of  its  timber,  the  encroach- 
ment of  the  water  upon  the  shore  or  coast  line,  the  shifting  of  the 
sand-ridges  by  the  wind,  the  breaking  of  the  shelving  rocks  in  the 
cliff,  are  all  changes  which  almost  imperceptibly,  but  profoundly, 
affect  the  balance  of  parts  in  the  landscape.  These  changes  differ 
from  those  first  named  in  being  more  gradual,  and  from  those 
mentioned  second,  in  being  irregular.  Whatever  there  may  be  of 
recurrence  is  at  intervals  that  seem  to  be  variable. 

4.  The  study  of  landscape  details,  therefore,  means  the  follozving 
of  each  minor  unity,  through  each  of  these  series  of  aspects  as  the 
changes  occur,  zvith  due  regard  to  the  relations  of  the  various 
aspects  to  each  other. —  For  example,  a  tree  presents  certain  phases 
of  life  which  are  due  to  the  daily  and  hourly  shifting  influences  of 
sun   and   shower,   of   light   and   darkness,   etc. ;    these   phases   are 


2  6  THE  THIRD   YEARBOOK 

marked  mainly  by  the  constant  play  of  shade,  tint,  and  color.  Still 
further,  other  phases  appear  that  correspond  with  the  month  and 
season ;  these  show  themselves  in  bud,  leaf,  flower,  and  fruit.  And, 
Anally,  there  are  those  phases  which  present  themselves  through 
the  accumulation  of  years  that  are  found  in  the  tree's  maturity,  its 
decline,  its  death,  its  decay,  and  in  the  distribution  of  the  elements 
of  which  it  is  composed.  A  true  study  of  the  tree  will  consist, 
therefore,  of  the  thoughtful  consideration  of  all  the  different  phases 
of  life  which  it  presents,  with  due  regard  to  their  relations  to  each 
other  and  taken  in  connection  with  the  underlying  causes.  The 
results  of  such  study  will  always  appear  as  a  rational  and  coherent 
story,  whether  it  is  told  by  tongue,  brush,  spatula,  or  pen ;  but  the 
description  can  be  even  approximately  complete  only  when  all  are 
used.  Every  feature  of  the  landscape,  whether  it  be  a  plant,  an 
animal,  or  a  rock,  must  be  studied  in  the  same  general  way. 

5.  The  different  series  of  aspects  presented  by  the  landscape 
make  their  appeal  according  to  a  well-defined  order  which  is  deter- 
mined by  the  age  and  experience  of  the  pupils. —  The  series  of 
fleeting  aspects  possessing  a  lesser,  though  subtle,  significance  is 
strikingly  beautiful,  and  they  are  generally  most  attractive  to  chil- 
dren. The  appeal  is  made  chiefly  to  the  aesthetic  sense ;  and,  as 
these  phases  manifest  themselves  largely  through  changes  in  shade 
and  color,  the  m^ode  of  expression  must  correspond. 

Those  aspects,  which  are  included  in  the  regularly  recurring 
events  of  the  season,  have  a  deeper  significance,  none  the  less 
beautiful ;  but,  in  their  relation  to  man,  they  appeal  strongly  to  his 
notions  of  utility.  Through  this  appeal,  which  reaches  the  mind 
gradually  as  it  matures,  they  call  forth  from  the  human  being 
those  inventions,  arts,  devices,  measurements,  and  calculations 
which  have  enabled  man  to  utilize  the  forces  of  nature. 

The  series  of  aspects,  including  those  gradual  changes  that  can 
be  timed,  perhaps  only  by  ages,  enlist  the  profoimdest  interests  of 
the  mind.  No  comprehension,  even  approximately  adequate,  is 
possible  without  the  aid  of  a  great  perspective  of  experience  which 
has  been  developed  through  an  intelligent  contact  with  nature.  The 
real  significance  of  these  larger  aspects  of  creation  can  never  fully 
appear.  They  make  the  appeal  only  as  the  mind  ripens,  and  they 
become  intelligible  only  as  it  acquires  the  disposition  and  the  power 
to  arrange,  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  philosophy,  the  facts  that 
have  been  gathered  and  treasured  by  sense. 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  27 

In  a  study  of  a  landscape,  therefore,  the  teacher  and  pupil  should 
seek  for  the  dominant  influence  which  organizes  it  into  a  great 
unity.  For  example,  in  the  area  in  and  about  Chicago  the  center 
of  influence  at  present  is  the  lake,  while  one  a  little  more  remote 
and  far-reaching  is  the  glacier.  Everywhere  the  country  presents 
the  character  given  to  it  by  the  lake,  present  and  past.  The  sand, 
the  pebbles,  the  small  lakes  and  pools  all  testify  to  its  work.  But 
within  this  area  are  minor  features  which  themselves  operate  as 
centers  of  influence.  The  trees,  for  instance,  speak  of  the  sand- 
ridges  everywhere ;  while  the  rushes,  reeds,  flags,  sedges,  and  coarse 
grasses  speak  of  the  more  or  less  submerged  lowlands. 

The  innumerable  colonies  of  animals  and  plants  which  infest 
these  minor  centers  tell  of  still  further  contrasted  conditions,  which 
differ  from  each  other  in  slope  or  soil  or  sunshine,  but  mainly  in 
water  supply.  The  chance  excavations  in  road-making  or  for  build- 
ings reveal  something  as  to  what  the  conditions  have  been  in  the 
past.  The  rapidly  occurring  changes  which  accompany  the  settle- 
ment of  the  country — the  displacement  of  the  fish,  the  tadpole  and 
frog,  the  mussel  and  snail,  the  heron,  rail,  snipe,  and  bittern,  by 
the  earthworm,  the  toad,  the  snake,  and  the  lark ;  the  substitution 
of  the  fine  meadow  grass  for  the  water  lily,  the  bulrushes,  the 
flags,  the  cattails,  and  the  sedges  —  all  give  a  glimpse  of  what  the 
future  may  be.  To  decipher  the  story  of  the  past,  so  to  interpret 
the  present  that  we  may  plan  for  the  future —  this  is  the  funda- 
mental purpose  of  all  field-study. 

II.       NATURE-STUDY    AND    MAN    IN    THE    LANDSCAPE. 

One  of  the  most  important  lessons  of  field-study  is  to  show  how 
man  by  slow  and  progressive  stages  avails  himself  of  the  various 
natural  features  of  a  given  area.  The  home  life,  the  industries,  the 
transportation  of  products,  the  location  of  towns  and  cities,  are 
in  the  immediate  control  of  the  natural  features.  Among  these 
the  most  important  is  water  supply,  and  this  in  turn  is  closely 
related  to  the  nature  of  the  rocks.  A  limestone  region  usually 
abounds  in  springs.  The  water,  filtered  and  cool,  is  a  prime 
necessity  in  the  human  life.  Hence  it  is  that  in  such  a  region  the 
location  of  the  home,  the  fundamental  unit  of  our  social  and  political 
system,  is  determined  largely  by  this  single  physical  feature.  The 
pupils  can  easily  canvass  the  area  within  reach  of  observation  and 


2  8  THE  THIRD   YEARBOOK 

note  how  uniformly  this  fact  prevails.  But  the  springs,  still 
further,  do  much  to  determine  the  topography  of  a  region.  The 
general  land-slope  determines  the  direction  of  the  water-flow,  but 
the  water  and  the  nature  of  the  rocks  determine  the  channels  and 
the  character  of  the  sloping  sides  of  the  valley.  These,  in  turn,  fix 
the  accessibility  and  the  immediate  surroundings  of  the  home  which 
so  powerfully  react  upon  the  life  and  character  of  the  occupants. 
If  the  site  of  the  home  is  unfavorable  from  the  aesthetic  or  artistic 
standpoint;  if  it  is  beset  by  features  which  render  it  difficult  of 
access ;  or  if  in  any  way  the  physical  features  make  the  labor  for 
a  livelihood  so  onerous  and  taxing  as  to  leave  little  time  for  the 
rest  and  leisure  so  necessary  for  reflection,  reading,  and  study,  the 
character  of  the  people  who  occupy  such  homes  will  be  distinctly 
affected  thereby. 

The  location  of  the  roadways,  too,  are  closely  connected  with 
the  physical  features.  They  follow,  as  far  as  practicable,  the 
ravines  and  valleys  that  have  been  caused  by  the  streams  because 
of  the  easier  grade.  It  reduces  the  cost  of  transportation  to  recog- 
nize this  particular  point.  When  it  is  necessary  for  the  roads  to 
ascend  the  hill,  it  is  interesting  to  note  how  with  increasing  intelli- 
gence the  grades  are  carefully  surveyed  and  improved.  In  locating 
the  railroads,  too,  the  same  features  are  observed ;  the  easiest  grades 
are  along  the  streams. 

The  natural  lines  of  transportation  determine  also  the  location 
of  the  villages,  towns,  and  cities.  The  convergence  of  even  but 
two  country  roads  to  a  common  point  is  often  enough  to  establish 
a  store,  with  perhaps  a  post-office  and  a  cluster  of  houses.  The  two 
roadways  bring  to  this  point  the  merchandise  or  products  of  two  or 
more  different  sections,  and  the  opportunity  for  trade  is  created. 
The  amount  of  barter  and  sale  depends  upon  the  soil,  the  natural 
products,  and  the  extent  and  character  of  the  thoroughfares.  If 
the  latter  are  two  rivers,  for  example,  of  navigable  size,  a  city  is 
the  inevitable  result.  These  are  enormously  reinforced,  but  never 
quite  replaced,  by  railroads  that  give  speed  to  the  movement  of 
goods,  but  always  at  increased  expense.  The  streams  of  a  country 
are  closely  associated  with  the  industrial  history.  They  furnish 
the  earliest  and  cheapest  power  for  various  kinds  of  mills.  The 
course  of  almost  any  stream  will  show  a  number  of  generations 
of  these  which  have  come  and  gone  keeping  pace  with  the  settlement 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  29 

of  the  country.  First,  the  old  overshot  wheel,  cumbersome  and 
wasteful  of  water,  then  the  turbine,  and  finally  the  steam-engine 
supplanting  both  —  each  serving  its  day  and  purpose ;  each  repre- 
sents a  given  horizon  of  ability  that  man  has  reached  in  availing 
himself  of  the  natural  features  of  his  environment. 

The  location  of  the  timber  reserves,  of  the  quarries,  and  of  the 
mines  bears  a  direct  relation  to  the  value  of  the  soil  for  the  purpose  ot 
cultivation,  and  to  the  natural  transportation  facilities.  The  houses, 
too,  show  an  interesting  evolution.  The  earlier  ones  were  of  wood  — 
log  cabins  —  or  sod  dugouts.  These  are  often  followed  with  stone 
buildings,  when  quarries  of  good  building-stone  are  a  part  of  the 
country's  features.  These  are  still  further  succeeded  by  either 
wooden  ones  of  finer  worked  lumber,  or  by  cut  stone,  or  it  may  be 
by  imported  brick  and  tile.  This  study  tends  to  bring  out  the  fact 
that  education  and  training  do  not,  as  often  supposed,  enable  man 
to  live  at  variance  with  nature,  or  in  a  measure  independent,  or  even 
at  war  v/ith  her.  They  simply  show  how  man  learns  to  avail  him- 
self more  widely  of  the  benefits  that  nature  is  ready  to  bestow 
upon  those  who  are  willing  to  consider  themselves  a  part  of  the 
great  whole.  This  is  the  fundamental  motive  for  nature-study.  It 
can  be  brought  to  the  experience  of  children  of  the  earliest  teach- 
able age;  and,  once  fixed,  no  artificial  stimulus  to  observation  will 
ever  after  be  needed.  The  study  of  nature  then  becomes  for  the 
pupil  a  personal  matter.  Its  problems  are  personal  ones  that  make 
their  appeal  directly  to  him.  There  is  an  abysmal  difference 
between  learning  about  nature  and  learning  from  nature.  Both 
methods  of  study  may  have  outwardly  the  true  scientific  form ;  but 
it  is  the  latter  only  that  is  really  educative.  In  the  former  process 
the  student  finds  her  inert,  spiritless,  and  dumb.  In  the  latter  she 
becomes  active  and  eloquent,  and  almost  conscious  in  her  meeting 
at  every  point  the  gradually  awakening  needs  of  man. 

III.       THE   FARM. 

As  a  smaller  or  minor  unit  in  the  general  landscape  the  farm 
may  be  considered  as  practically  a  natural  division.  When  the  topog- 
raphy varies  at  all,  the  farm  boundaries  will  usually  follow  certain 
natural  lines.  For  example,  it  is  difficult  for  a  man  to  farm  if  his 
land  lies  on  opposite  sides  of  a  deep  ravine  or  sharply  divided  ridge. 
The  effort  is  made,  then,  in  buying  and  selling,  to  recognize  the 


30  THE  THIRD   YEARBOOK 

fact,  and  so  to  arrange  the  lines  that  each  farmer  may  get  land 
that  can  be  worked  to  the  best  advantage.  Farmers  who  do  not 
recognize  these  general  facts  soon  find  themselves  in  possession 
of  undesirable  areas,  and  consequently  they  suffer  actual  financial 
loss  and  physical  discomfort  from  their  failure  to  observe  the  char- 
acter of  the  natural  features. 

The  different  soils  and  locations  are  always  considered  in  the 
choice  of  crops.  The  lower  lands  are  chiefly  for  grass ;  the  higher 
for  grain ;  the  warmer  southern  slopes  for  corn  and  early  pasture ; 
the  cooler  northern  hillsides  for  wheat  and  oats  ;  the  alluvial  bot- 
toms for  gardens  and  vegetables,  and  the  well-drained  uplands  for 
orchards  and  fruits.  This  distribution  does  not  represent  the  arbi- 
trary choice  of  man,  but  rather  his  implicit  observance  of  the 
general  facts  of  temperature,  moisture,  and  soil.  In  short,  all  the 
rural  occupations  of  agriculture,  horticulture,  and  grazing  should 
be  determined  upon  beforehand  by  a  scientific  investigation  of 
natural  conditions.  It  would  be  preposterous  for  a  man  to  erect 
an  elaborate  and  expensive  gold-mining  plant  on  a  spot  that  had 
not  been  thoroughly  prospected.  But  many  thousands  of  dollars 
are  spent  and  endless  disappointment  results  from  a  failure  on  the 
part  of  farmers  to  ''  prospect "  similarly  their  farms  before  they 
begin  their  work.  These  financial  losses,  and  the  infinite  social  and 
physical  discomforts  of  country  life,  will  not  be  relieved  until  people 
are  recreated  by  that  rational  study  of  nature  which  it  is  the  func- 
tion of  nature-study  in  the  schools  to  stimulate  and  direct. 

It  is  important,  too,  to  study  the  relation  of  the  farm  as  a  unit 
to  all  other  sources  which  minister  to  the  comfort  and  happiness  of 
people.  The  country  roads  which  radiate  in  different  directions 
from  it  as  a  center  are  but  the  beginnings  of  lines  that  may  connect 
it  with  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Along  these  simple  paths  of  trans- 
portation may  begin  the  flow  of  aid,  comfort,  and  blessings  to  people 
of  every  degree  of  need  and  in  every  station  in  life.  This  should 
be  made  in  the  lives  of  the  children  a  personal  matter.  Upon  their 
personal  effort,  their  personal  industry,  honesty,  honor,  and  integ- 
rity, depends  the  welfare  of  those  more  or  less  distant  people  to 
whom  they  are  thus  related.  The  fact  that  their  productions  are  to 
be  consumed  by  people  in  a  remote  quarter  of  the  earth,  savage  or 
civilized,  instead  of  by  neighbors  on  an  adjoining  farm,  lessens  not 
one  whit  the  obligation  that  such  productions  shall  be  prepared  as 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  31 

honestly  as  nature  can  grow  them.  A  pound  should  mean  precisely 
a  pound,  and  the  contents  of  the  package  should  correspond  exactly 
with  the  claims  of  the  label.  The  pupils  should  be  taught  that  there 
are  practically  no  limits  to  which  the  distinctively  fine  products  and 
the  distinctively  honest  preparations  may  not  become  known  and 
honored.  Inward,  toward  themselves,  over  the  same  routes  flow  the 
contributions  demanded  in  their  daily  lives ;  and  they  learn  in  a 
different  way  to  appreciate  those  qualities  of  character  in  others 
which  others  are  glad  to  recognize  in  them.  Herein  lies  the  root 
of  finance,  and  here  is  the  basis  of  social  and  political  structure. 
The  financial  condition  of  the  farmer  depends  upon  the  ratio  of  his 
sales  to  what  he  buys.  His  wheat,  corn,  cattle,  and  minerals  he 
transmutes  to  gold ;  if  this  be  not  used  in  part  for  those  imported 
products  which  he  naturally  requires ;  if  it  be  hoarded  and  put  out 
at  usury,  instead  of  being  devoted  to  means  of  perpetual  intellectual 
attainment ;  if  through  it  he  become  not  a  source  of  greater  general 
influence,  then  the  very  last  and  highest  lesson  that  nature  has  to 
teach  remains  unlearned,  and  ultimate  disaster,  if  not  to  him  then  to 
his  children,  is  the  inevitable  result.  Here  again,  in  this  approach 
to  nature,  we  find  the  motive  for  the  study.  It  is  not  remote ;  it  is 
immediate.  It  is  not  vague  ;  it  is  definite.  It  is  not  something  which 
can  be  deferred ;  it  is  that  from  which  the  stmiulus  to  the  study  must 
proceed. 

IV.       THE   GARDEN. 

A  most  common  and  useful  adjunct  of  the  home  is  the  garden. 
It  offers  an  approach  to  nature  that  is  fascinating  both  to  old 
and  young.  The  fresh  and  odorous  earth ;  its  swarm  of  worms, 
grubs,  and  insects ;  the  birds  rejoicing  in  the  bountiful  food  supply ; 
the  spontaneity  of  the  plants,  incarnating  as  they  grow  the  mysteri- 
ous force  of  the  sunshine ;  the  appetite  whetted  by  the  gradual 
appearance  of  the  vegetables  that  bring  release  from  the  monotonous 
and  heavy  menu  of  winter ;  the  flowers  that,  in  patches,  rows,  and 
clumps,  give  changing  color  to  the  whole  —  all  these  combine  to 
draw  man  irresistibly  from  the  usual  daily  routine  and  to  place  him 
once  more  under  the  benign  influence  of  primeval  nature.  The 
children  are  charmed  with  the  opportunity  to  do  such  work;  they 
are  not  fretted  by  the  feeling  that  it  "  does  not  seem  to  be  like 
school,"  which  is  always  the  source  of  more  or  less  worry  to  the 
older  ones,  to  their  teachers,  and  to  the  parents. 


32  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

The  many  vacant  and  desolate-looking  school-yards  still  to  be 
seen  in  both  country  and  city ;  the  door-yards  of  thousands  of 
houses  that  almost  cry  out  against  the  indignities  of  rubbish  that 
are  thrust  upon  them  by  careless  and  ignorant  people  of  vulgar 
tastes,  all  testify  how  far  away  we  still  are  from  knowing  how  to 
utilize  effectively  a  miost  potent  means  in  education. 

There  are  few  problems  in  the  plant  world  that  are  not  presented 
in  die  garden  in  a  form  fit  for  study.  It  is  true,  too,  that  animal 
life  is  but  little,  if  any,  less  well  represented.  It  is  a  perfect 
laboratory  in  which  to  study  the  subjects  of  temperature,  light, 
moisture,  soil,  and  air  that  are  the  fundamental  conditions  of  growth. 

The  chief  reason  why  the  school  garden  often  falls  short  of  the 
hopes  of  those  who  plan  for  it  is  that  its  projectors  usually  greatly 
underestimate  the  attention  and  labor  which  it  should  receive. 
Gardening  is  one  of  the  highest  arts,  and  there  can  be  no  more 
serious  mistake  than  to  suppose  it  is  only  necessary  to  plant  the 
seeds  and  let  them  grow.  Bacon  said  long  ago  that  men  come  to 
build  stately  sooner  than  to  garden  finely. 

It  should  be  remembered  in  the  outset  that,  in  several  senses,  a 
garden  represents  a  war  with  nature,  as  the  latter  term  is  usually 
understood.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  commonly  made  up  of  plants  that 
have  been  drawn  from  remote  parts  of  the  earth,  often  from  places 
having  diverse  climatic  conditions.  These  are  all  expected  to 
grow  within  a  limited  area,  for  which  naturally,  they  are  not 
specially  suited,  and  their  "personal"  objections  are  supposed  to 
be  overcome  chiefly  by  artificial  means  and  by  processes  known  as 
cultivation  and  forcing.  Cultivated  plants  can  never  be  made  to 
forget  the  ancient  haunts  of  their  ancestors.  The  one,  therefore, 
that  flourished  best  in  primeval  times  in  marshy  soil  will  never 
feel  quite  at  home  in  a  dry,  loamy  garden  alongside  of  a  plant  that 
has  been  enticed  away  from  a  sandy  ridge.  Nor  will  a  plant  which 
has  been  kidnapped  from  a  warmer  climate  take  kindly  to  a  yoke- 
fellow that  has  spent  countless  ages  in  learning  how  to  outwit  the 
north  wind. 

In  the  second  place,  almost  every  cultivated  plant  may  be 
regarded  as  either  a  freak  or  a  genius ;  usually  it  exhibits  all  the 
eccentricities  of  both  types.  Man,  in  looking  selfishly  after  his  own 
ends,  in  many  instances  has  seriously  interfered  with  the  ancient 
and  prosaic  process  of  seed-production,  which  comprises  the  whole 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  33 

of  a  plant's  ambition  in  the  wild  state.  Even  where  the  want  of  the 
gardener  and  the  need  of  the  plant  meet  in  the  same  thing,  as  in 
the  seed,  in  some  underground  forms,  and  in  many  flowers,  these 
parts  are  forced  by  the  tricks  of  cultivation  to  a  point  in  size  and 
number  that  the  plants  could  not  sustain  for  a  single  season  if  they 
were  left  to  battle  alone  with  the  elements  and  their  natural  enemies. 
Thus  the  potato,  as  well  as  the  turnip,  parsnip,  and  other  roots ; 
the  cabbage,  kale,  kohlrabi,  and  other  leaves  and  stems ;  the  peas, 
beans,  and  other  seeds,  in  their  present  marketable  form,  represent 
the  ambition  of  the  gardener  rather  than  the  needs  of  the  plants 
themselves.  The  distortion  and  exaggeration  of  the  normal  form 
found  in  the  majority  of  cultivated  plants  represent  with  fair  direct- 
ness the  modification  of  the  natural  conditions  under  which  these 
plants  are  produced.  If  members  of  the  vegetable  world  were 
endowed  with  reflective  powers,  they  would  certainly  view  some  of 
the  results  obtained  by  the  gardener  with  alarm ;  as,  for  example, 
the  production  of  the  '*  seedless  fruit "  and  the  double  flower, 
in  which  the  original  purpose  of  this  particular  part  is  entirely 
defeated. 

Again,  it  should  be  remembered  that  cultivated  plants  are  not 
only  herded  together  without  much  regard  for  their  natural  affini- 
ties, but  they  are  set  down  in  a  place  which  in  most  cases  was 
pre-empted  ages  ago  by  other  plants  that  have  learned  thoroughly, 
how  to  take  care  of  themselves  on  that  particular  spot.  It  has  been 
part  of  the  business  of  these  plants  to  kill  ofif  without  mercy  all 
members  of  any  weakling  tribe  that  might  appear  among  them. 
The  enormous  strength  with  which  these  '^  natives  "  literally  hold 
their  ground  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  the  gardener's  favorites 
must  be  aided  and  protected  by  the  active  and  vigilant  use  of  the 
best  instruments  yet  devised  for  the  extermination  of  weeds  in  order 
to  carry  the  cultivated  crop  to  a  successful  issue.  There  is  no  more 
striking  illustration  than  this  of  the  trouble  one  may  expect,  if  he 
interferes  with  one  of  nature's  established  ways. 

In  designing  a  garden  in  connection  with  an  ordinary  school, 
therefore,  three  things  should  be  observed  :  ( i )  select  plants  which 
do  not  represent  a  wide  diversity  of  habit,  unless  the  garden  will 
lend  itself  to  a  variety  of  conditions  as  to  water,  sunshine,  and  soil ; 
(2)  select  plants  which  represent  fairly  well-established  stages  of 
cultivation ;    that  is,  avoid  the  so-called  novelties,   unless   there  is 


34  THE  THIRD   YEARBOOK 

ample  provision  for  unusual  attention;  (3)  allow  plenty  of  time  for 
systematic  care ;  odds  and  ends  of  time  will  not  do ;  the  weeds 
do  not  grow  by  fits  and  starts. 

For  the  aesthetic  effects  of  the  garden  most  people  will  depend 
upon  the  flowers  and  ornamental  foliage  plants.  Several  arrange- 
ments may  be  suggested  which  will  commend  themselves  according 
to  the  taste  and  opportunities  of  different  individuals.  The  follow- 
ing is  a  description  of  the  garden  planned  and  cared  for  by  the 
pupils  of  the  University  Elementary  School : 

The  garden  occupied  a  plot  of  ground  lying  on  the  south  side  of 
the  school  building,  55  meters  long  east  and  west,  and  30.5  meters 
wide  north  and  south.  The  south  side  and  the  ends  were  inclosed 
by  a  wire  netting  6  feet  high,  and  the  north  side  was  bounded  by  the 
schoolhouse. 

The  main  cultivated  portion  was  a  strip  near  the  south  side  48 
meters  long  and  12  meters  wide.  In  the  middle  of  the  strip  a 
circular  bed  12  meters  in  diameter  was  devoted  to  flowers,  one- 
eighth  of  the  area  being  assigned  to  each  grade.  A  bed  in  each 
corner,  6  meters  square,  was  sown  with  spring  grains.  The  four 
remaining  plots  on  either  side  of  the  circular  area,  each  about  6 
meters  square,  was  assigned  to  the  grades  as  marked,  and  they  were 
planted  with  vegetables. 

Near  the  building  there  were  nine  beds,  in  which  about  one 
thousand  tulip  bulbs  were  planted  in  the  fall.  After  these  had  fin- 
ished blooming,  their  places  were  given  to  plants  that  bloom  later 
in  the  season. 

On  the  walls  of  the  building,  between  the  windows,  preparations 
were  made  for  planting  a  great  variety  of  rapidly  growing  vines, 
which,  it  was  believed,  would  somewhat  soften  the  glare  of  the 
summer's  sun  upon  the  treeless  grounds. 

At  the  inner  end  of  each  bed,  in  the  circular  plot  reserved  for 
flowers,  there  was  planted  a  castor  bean ;  at  a  suitable  distance 
from  this,  moving  outward,  there  was  planted  a  calladium ;  next  was 
a  ring  of  salvias ;  then  cornflowers,  verbenas,  and  a  border  of 
phlox,  or  sweet  alyssum.  By  this  selection  and  distribution  the 
bed  had  the  features  of  ornamental  foliage  and  flowers,  which  was 
made  possible  by  its  large  size.  The  flowering  began  rather  early 
and,  by  the   choice   of  plants,   continued   until   frost.     The   order 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  35 

decided  upon  gave  each  different  kind  of  plant  a  fair  opportunity 
for  growth. 

The  four  adjacent  areas  on  either  side  of  the  flower-bed  —  one 
for  each  grade  —  were  devoted  to  plants  selected  for  their  economic 
value.  Such  plants  were  selected  as  would  be  useful  in  preparing 
the  children's  luncheons  the  next  year.  To  this  end  each  plot,  20 
feet  square,  was  devoted  to  one  or  two  kinds  of  plants,  and  the 
grade  caring  for  it  was  responsible  to  the  entire  school  for  the 
result.  The  plants  chosen  were  beans,  peas,  potatoes,  cabbage, 
carrots,  parsnips,  beets,  tomatoes,  turnips,  onions,  peppers,  cucum- 
bers (for  pickles),  and  corn.  Radishes  and  lettuce  were  sown  in 
certain  spots  not  available  for  other  plants. 

It  was  proposed  to  show,  for  example,  the  great  debt  of  man- 
kind to  the  Cruciferae.  There  is  no  part  of  the  plant  body  that  has 
not  been  developed  in  different  members  of  this  useful  family  for 
the  food  of  man ;  thus,  in  the  turnip  and  radish,  the  root ;  in  the 
cabbage,  the  leaves.  The  Solanaceae  were  represented  by  the  tomato, 
potato,  and  pepper,  the  innocuous  relatives  of  the  poisonous  night- 
shade. The  parsnip  and  carrot  represented  the  Umhelliferae,  and 
beets  strove  for  the  ascendancy  with  their  wild  and  vigorous  relative, 
the  pigweed  of  the  goosefoot  family,  or  Chenopodiaceae.  The  peas 
and  beans  are  the  favorites  chosen  from  the  Legtimmosae  —  an 
interesting  family  of  plants,  both  useful  and  ornamental. 

The  four  areas  at  the  opposite  ends  of  the  garden  were  devoted 
to  various  members  of  the  grass  family  —  maize,  wheat,  oats,  rye, 
barley,  broom-corn,  and  sorghum ;  and  a  small  strip  was  sown  with 
flax.  Later  in  the  season  some  space  was  found  for  buckwheat, 
the  most  useful  member  belonging  to  that  family  of  gutter  snipes, 
the  smartweeds.  The  same  aspects  for  study  were  presented  by  the 
plants  cultivated  for  their  flowers. 

In  connection  with  this  part  of  garden-work  there  are  three 
interesting  lines  of  study:  (i)  the  original  habits  of  the  plant 
in  its  wild  state,  and  its  near  relatives  that  now  may  be  found 
growing  wild;  (2)  the  steps  in  cultivation  and  the  conditions  pro- 
vided which  have  developed  the  cultivated  form;  (3)  the  nature, 
constitution,  relative  value,  and  distribution  of  the  food-product 
thus  obtained. 

Another  point  of  view  from  which  the  garden  as  a  whole  was 
studied  is  that  of  the  actual  problems  which  the  different  plants 


36  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

must  solve  in  the  process  of  growth  during  different  periods  of 
the  season.  These  problems  are  ahke  to  all  the  plants  cultivated  in 
the  garden,  though  differing  somewhat  in  degree  of  importance. 
They  arise  mainly  from  the  plant's  efforts  to  establish  helpful  rela- 
tions (i)  with  sunshine,  meaning  both  light  and  heat;  (2)  with 
the  soil  for  support  and  as  a  water  reservoir,  as  well  as  for  the  sake 
of  small  quantities  of  minerals;  and  (3)  with  the  atmosphere  as  a 
reservoir  of  oxygen  and  carbon  dioxide  as  a  food-supply. 

The  clew  to  a  solution  of  the  problems  falling  under  (i)  and 
(3)  are  found  chiefly  in  a  study  of  the  leaves,  including  their  mode 
of  attachment,  position,  relative  size,  shape,  margin,  arrangement, 
structure,  and  movements.  The  problems  involved  in  (2)  are  to 
be  worked  out  through  careful  observation  of  the  root,  beginning 
when  it  leaves  the  sprouting  seed. 

Certain  movements  of  the  plants  were  shown  by  the  various 
kinds  of  climbers  that  were  trained  up  the  walls  of  the  schoolhouse. 
The  amount  of  work  done  by  the  plants  was  approximately  calcu- 
lated from  data  gathered  from  growing  plants  under  special  condi- 
tions. Thus,  the  amount  of  water  discharged  through  the  leaves 
was  found  by  growing  a  plant  in  a  wide-mouthed  bottle  closed 
about  the  stem  so  as  to  prevent  evaporation.  By  weighing  at  inter- 
vals, placing  the  plant  now  in  the  sunshine,  now  in  the  shade,  the 
loss  noted  will  be  from  transpiration,  and  the  quantity  of  water 
can  be  measured  out  so  that  the  pupils  may  see  it.  Plants  may 
be  weighed  fresh,  and  afterwards  dried  and  weighed  again,  then 
burned,  thus  giving  an  idea  of  the  water  and  of  the  dry  solid, 
and  mineral  matter  built  up  during  any  given  period  of  its 
development. 

Again,  the  resources  upon  which  the  plant  must  draw  for 
materials  were  investigated  through  a  study  of  the  soil,  rainfall, 
temperature,  slant  and  distribution  of  the  sunshine.  The  gist  of 
the  whole  study  under  this  head  is  (i)  to  see  how  the  plants  suit 
their  problems  to  the  seasons :  germination  to  the  cool,  moist  April 
and  May ;  the  rapid  development  of  the  leaf  and  flower  to  the 
long,  bright,  hot  days  of  June  and  July;  and  the  filling  up  of  the 
seed  to  the  early  autumn;  and  (2)  to  observe  how  they  manage 
to  resist  the  encroachments  of  each  other  and  to  use  each  other, 
as  they  all  together  take  possession  practically  of  the  whole  earth. 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  37 

V.       THE    DWELLING. 

Something  has  been  said  already  about  the  relation  of  the  home 
to  the  general  features  of  the  landscape.  People  as  yet  by  no  means 
fully  realize  how  directly  its  great  aspects  affect  them.  This  does 
not  refer  to  the  momentary  effect  upon  the  emotions,  but  to  the 
power  that  such  influences  have  upon  the  development  of  character. 
The  constant  presence  of  a  great  mountain  range,  studded  with  its 
cloud-capped  peaks ;  or  of  a  sweep  of  water  whose  surface,  whether 
smooth  or  turbulent,  is  a  constant  reminder  of  the  primitive  forces 
of  nature ;  or  of  the  majesty  of  a  river  that  rolls  its  way  from  hill 
to  hill  through  a  valley;  or  of  a  stretch  of  prairie  whose  vastness 
seems  to  lift  and  expand  the  arch  of  the  sky  into  an  almost  limit- 
less dome  —  the  constant  presence  of  any  of  these  great  elemental 
facts  of  nature  insensibly  impresses  itself,  especially  in  the  early 
years  of  childhood  and  youth.  In  later  years  we  become  conscious 
that  these  raw  materials,  by  the  mysterious  chemistry  of  life,  have 
been  transmuted  into  the  strength,  the  refinement,  and  the  subtleties 
of  human  character. 

Realizing  these  facts,  the  outlook  of  a  home  becomes  an  impor- 
tant consideration.  Farms  are  usually  purchased  with  an  eye  chiefly 
to  fertility  of  the  soil,  but  no  less  attention  should  be  given  to  pos- 
sibilities of  outlook  for  the  dwelling.  The  site  of  a  home  does 
something  to  determine  whether  its  occupants  will  be  honest  or 
dishonest ;  the  way  it  faces  will  in  some  degree  determine  whether 
the  family  will  be  happy  or  morose.  These  facts  are  not  the  prod- 
ucts of  the  imagination  belonging  to  the  domain  of  poetry;  they 
rest  largely  upon  chemistry  and  physics,  and  are  the  legitimate 
considerations  of  science.  In  its  construction,  from  the  arrange- 
ment of  its  rooms  and  windows  so  as  to  secure  the  maximum 
amount  of  sunshine,  to  the  means  employed  for  the  disposal  of 
garbage,  everything  should  rest  upon  scientific  principles.  The 
character  of  the  soil  and  subsoil  determines  its  stability  upon  the 
foundation,  and  it  also  affects  the  drainage.  In  latitudes  having 
long  winters  the  questions  of  heating  and  ventilation  are  of  para- 
mount importance.  To  solve  these  problems,  properly,  requires  a 
fairly  liberal  education  in  physics  and  chemistry.  Most  of  the 
teaching  and  most  of  the  text-books  in  these  subjects,  however,  are 
still  as  hopelessly  dull  and  remote  as  though  no  such  necessity 
existed.     Modern   construction   mvolves   plumbing,   gasfitting,   and 


38  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

electric  wiring,  all  of  which  rest  upon  the  very  latest  results 
obtained  by  experts  in  physical  and  sanitary  science.  Many  houses 
may  be  so  located  that  the  water  supply,  delivered  from  a  spring 
having  a  higher  level,  may  be  piped  to  all  parts  of  the  dwelling 
where  it  is  needed.  These  and  other  conveniences,  which  soon 
become  necessities,  might  have  a  place  in  many  homes,  were  the 
instruction  in  the  schools  to  take  them  into  due  account.  The 
actual  personal  investigation  into  one's  own  home,  with  a  view  to 
understanding  its  relations  to  himself,  is  certainly  as  legitimate  as 
it  is  for  him  to  spend  his  time  in  the  study  of  the  red  man's  wig- 
wam or  the  igloo  of  the  Esquimos. 

The  study  of  the  materials  that  enter  into  the  construction  of 
the  dwelling  opens  endless  opportunities  for  observations.  The 
stones  can  be  traced  to  the  quarries  and  to  the  rock  strata  from 
which  they  were  obtained,  the  bricks  to  the  "yards"  and  to  the 
sand  and  clay  pits  furnishing  the  raw  materials.  The  processes 
of  manufacture  are  easily  understood,  and  may  be  duplicated  by 
the  pupils  themselves.  The  use  of  wood  and  iron  in  the  building, 
the  strength  of  materials,  and  the  means  of  testing  the  same  open 
to  the  pupils  the  usefulness  of  mechanics  which  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  branches  of  physical  science  to  children. 

The  lack  of  knowledge  and  appreciation  of  nature  is  not  more 
apparent  on  the  side  of  the  mechanical  and  sanitary  aspects  of 
the  average  home  than  it  is  on  the  artistic  side.  Thousands  of 
homes  and  schoolhouses  too,  that  present  an  appearance  of  neglect 
and  desolation  might  be  made  beautiful  by  a  little  thoughtfulness 
and  care  in  the  planting  of  trees  and  shrubbery.  Landscape  archi- 
tecture is,  indeed,  one  of  the  most  refined  sciences,  drawing,  as  it 
does,  directly  from  the  fields  of  both  technical  science  and  art.  It 
is  especially  close  to  the  interests  of  children,  because  of  the  direct 
appeal  which  it  makes  to  their  aesthetic  nature.  But  the  neglected 
door-yards  everywhere  testify  to  the  insensibility  of  the  general 
public  to  the  importance  of  this  factor  in  the  education  of  the 
children. 

The  dreariness  of  the  exterior,  as  a  matter  of  course,  usually 
finds  its  counterpart  inside  the  house.  The  waste  of  Sahara  is  not 
more  lonesome  than  a  house  whose  furnishing  and  decorations  bear 
no  relation  to  the  lives  of  the  occupants ;  that  do  not  grow  out 
of  and  bear  the  impress  of  the  thought  of  those  who  live  with 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  39 

them.  Instead  of  really  contributing  to  the  joy  and  movement 
of  home  life,  such  decorations  introduce  a  stiffness  that  always 
exists  between  strangers.  The  parlor  and  "  best  rooms  "  become 
places  to  be  shunned,  not  enjoyed,  and  the  real  available  portion 
of  the  house  for  living  purposes  becomes  narrowed  down  to  those 
regions  where  the  work  is  actually  done. 

This  opens  up  at  once  the  true  function  of  the  domestic  arts. 
Instruction  in  textiles,  manual  training,  modeling,  drawing,  and 
painting  should  at  this  point  find  easy  entrance  into  the  lives  and 
affections  of  the  pupil,  and  nature-study  properly  presented  should 
furnish  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  material  and  an  endless  variety 
in  design.  It  is  useless  to  try  to  teach  the  relation  of  nature-study 
to  art  until  the  pupils  feel  a  need  for  the  art  —  until  they  see  a 
place  for  it  and  begin  to  picture  in  their  imagination  what  it  can 
do.  The  study  of  art  usually  begins  in  a  gallery  which  is  but  a 
warehouse  and  most  people  grow  old  and  die  without  once  realizing 
that  it  can  exist  anywhere  else. 

Homes  that  are  made  more  livable  through  a  greater  sanity  of 
arrangement  and  decoration  would  react  powerfully  upon  the  social 
relations.  In  many  otherwise  good  communities  the  people  are  not 
social  because  they  dread  each  other's  parlors ;  whereas,  if  their 
rooms  expressed  something  of  the  actual  joy  that  the  people  get 
out  of  living,  they  would  add  immensely  to  the  pleasures  of  social 
intercourse. 

This  phase  of  home  life  offers  one  of  the  easiest  and  most 
obvious  points  of  departure  for  the  instruction  of  our  pupils,  but 
it  is  one  of  the  last  to  be  discovered.  If  teachers  were  to  devote 
as  much  time  to  such  instruction,  were  to  bring  to  it  the  same 
enthusiasm,  the  same  use  of  pictures  and  books  which  they  now 
bring  to  the  study  of  the  houses  of  savages  and  of  primitive  men 
of  other  days,  their  own  homes  and  home  life  and  the  general  social 
condition  would  be  almost  revolutionized  in  a  generation. 

VI.       THE    CITY. 

The  most  that  has  been  said  and  written  about  nature-study  has 
been  done  with  direct  reference  to  the  country.  The  city,  however, 
is  no  less  a  natural  object  than  a  tree  or  a  fox.  It  belongs  to  the 
earth ;  it  is  as  inseparable  from  it  as  a  mountain  range  or  a  river, 
and  it  should  be  studied  in  precisely  the  same  way.     Chicago  is 


40  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

no  less  a  natural  feature  than  Lake  Michigan.  The  waves  that 
roll  up  on  the  sandy  beach  are  not  more  natural  than  the  stream  of 
life  that  rolls  up  and  down  the  streets  of  the  great  city.  As  in 
the  case  of  the  country,  the  study  should  begin  with  field-work. 
The  location  of  the  city,  as  a  natural  feature,  in  the  landscape,  is 
as  truly  a  theme  for  nature-study  as  the  clouds  that  float  overhead. 
The  widest  possible  conceptions  of  which  the  children  are  capable 
should  be  developed  first  by  observation  of  fundamental  conditions. 
The  great  congregation  of  people  upon  one  spot  has  a  general 
meaning  that  appears  at  once  on  the  surface.  Just  as  the  single 
dwelling  is  built  with  due  regard  to  the  country  highway  and  the 
village  with  regard  to  the  "  crossroads,"  so  the  city  bears  an  obvious 
relation  to  the  great  highways  of  commerce.  These  all  center  in 
its  markets,  and  from  them  again  traffic  radiates  to  the  country.  The 
location  of  the  earliest  dwellings  and  business  houses  will  be  found 
to  bear  some  relationship  to  the  primitive  natural  features  which 
lend  themselves  to  economy  of  construction,  to  sanitary  conditions, 
or  to  business  advantages.  From  these  initial  points  as  centers  the 
buildings  creep  outward  along  the  natural  lines  of  least  resistance. 
The  surrounding  farms  gradually  change  their  general  agricultural 
character  to  more  special  forms  of  gardening,  the  raising  of  small 
fruits  and  other  products  to  meet  the  immediate  demand  of  the 
city.  In  their  turn,  these  areas  become  suburban,  and  are  finally 
absorbed,  becoming  secondary  business  districts  that  accommodate 
the  part  of  the  population  that  is  now  too  remote  from  the  principal 
centers.  The  transportation  facilities  follow  the  population  and 
play  an  important  part  in  differentiating  the  residence  sections  from 
those  devoted  to  business.  As  the  town  or  city  is  favored  with 
natural  means  of  communication  with  other  points,  it  reacts  upon 
the  surrounding  country  to  an  indefinite  distance,  stimulating  pro- 
ductive energy.  With  the  increase  in  production  of  raw  materials, 
the  city  is  driven  to  take  advantage  of  whatever  natural  features 
there  may  be  which  favor  manufacturing,  thereby  diminishing  labor 
and  expense  in  shipping  and  acquiring  additional  profits  from  sales. 
From  the  side  of  nature-study,  the  facts  to  be  emphasized  here 
are  those  which  show  the  close  adherence  of  man  in  his  city  build- 
ing to  natural  conditions.  Just  as  the  root  of  a  tree  seeks  this  way 
and  that  for  the  moisture  and  the  best  soil,  so  the  growing  city 
seeks  and  finds  its  nourishment  in  equally  elemental  features.     A 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  4 1 

city  SO  developed  possesses  the  stability  and  the  majesty  of  a 
mountain,  and  it  bears  no  more  relation  to  the  sporadic  growth 
of  the  illy  considered  "boom  town"  than  the  towering  oak  does 
to  the  made-up  plant  with  paper  leaves.  The  result  of  such  study 
will  be  to  unite  the  interests  of  the  city  and  country  in  the  minds 
of  the  pupils,  not  to  separate  them.  The  life  of  each  will  become 
less  strange  to  the  other,  and  every  step  taken  will  tend  to  develop 
and  strengthen  the  bonds  of  sympathy  necessary  to  a  happy  social 
life  and  to  strong  political  existence. 

VII.       NATURE-STUDY    AND    HISTORY. 

In  adapting  the  general  plan  of  nature-study  here  suggested  to 
a  particular  region,  it  is  evident  that  it  will  involve  many  mteresting 
facts  in  history.  Our  country  is  so  young  that  its  history  is  com- 
paratively simple,  and  the  relationship  of  man  to  primitive  natural 
features  may  be  easily  traced  from  the  earliest  settlements. 

A  study  of  boundary  lines  will  usually  show  how  the  present 
farms  have  been  derived  from  those  of  larger  areas  which  were 
secured  by  original  government  grants.  This  will  be  true  also  of  the 
township  and  county  lines.  The  history  of  all  boundaries,  political 
or  otherwise,  will  show  the  influence  of  topography  and  natural 
products,  in  which  ravines  and  ridges  play  a  conspicuous  part. 

From  the  first  generation  that  devoted  itself  to  pioneering  and 
the  rudest  agriculture  almost  everywhere,  there  have  issued  those 
specialized  occupations  that  mark  at  each  step  a  close  acquaintance 
with  nature.  Each  occupation  has  drawn  to  it  men  of  a  peculiar 
type  of  mind  and  of  a  particular  social  grade  from  the  Old  World, 
and  each  has  exerted  a  unique  influence  upon  the  education  of  the 
young.  The  undisturbed  quiet  of  a  strictly  agricultural  and  graz- 
ing region  has  produced  a  distinctly  different  kind  of  man  from 
the  one  developed  in  a  mining  or  a  manufacturing  district.  An 
area  not  easily  accessible  by  natural  lines  of  communication  lacks 
the  alertness  and  progressiveness  in  its  people  usually  found  in 
communities  having  freer  communication  with  social  and  indus- 
trial centers  of  a  somewhat  dift'erent  order.  The  effect  of  the 
occupation  upon  the  intelligence  of  the  workmen  is  simple  and 
direct.  It  woula  be  unreasonable  to  expect  the  same  mental  and 
moral  character  in  a  man  who  delves  day  after  day  in  the  gloom 
of  the  mines,  performing  an  endless  task,  every  day's  part  being 


42  THE  THIRD   YEARBOOK 

like  that  of  every  other  day,  that  we  should  expect  to  find  in  the 
man  who  under  better  physical  conditions  performs  work  which  at 
every  moment  exacts  his  individual  and  personal  initiative.  The 
great  differences  which  are  easily  recognized  do  not  arise  because 
the  one  kind  of  labor  is  so  much  harder  than  the  other ;  for  both 
may  make  about  the  same  drafts  upon  the  sum  total  of  human 
strength.  They  depend  much  more  upon  quality  —  upon  the  kind 
of  reaction  that  they  stimulate  in  the  worker.  Herein  is  the  real 
reason  for  the  long  struggle  for  shorter  hours  in  the  working-day ; 
it  is  not  so  much  that  the  muscles  may  be  relaxed,  as  it  is  that  the 
mind  may  be  released  from  the  monotonous  alternatives  of  the 
pick  and  shovel,  and  the  rhythmic  bang  of  steam-driven  tools. 
The  short  working-day  will  accomplish  its  true  purpose  only  when 
the  hours  now  largely  spent  in  idleness  shall  be  filled  with  some 
stimulating  purpose  that  turns  the  energies  of  the  individual  upon 
some  personal  problem  relating  to  the  public  good. 

Mingling  with  the  influences  of  the  present  surroundings  are  the 
traditions  that  in  many  instances  go  back  to  some  remote  spot  in 
the  Old  World.  The  result  is  a  general  disturbance  of  ideals  and  a 
modification  of  methods  that  serve  to  add  to  the  confusion  which 
a  great  diversity  of  new  conditions  would  of  itself  naturally  induce. 
Add  to  this  the  theory  of  self-government,  only  imperfectly  under- 
stood, but  which  by  its  very  terms  must  mean  the  extreme  reverse 
of  what  a  large  part  of  the  people  have  been  accustomed  to,  and 
there  is  no  need  to  seek  farther  for  the  causes  of  social  and  political 
turbulence.  The  mystery  concerning  the  origin  of  political  parties 
no  longer  remains ;  the  only  wonder  is  that  there  are  not  more  of 
them  than  already  exist.  The  shifting  of  political  boundaries  in  our 
country's  history  following,  now  one  great  natural  feature,  now 
another,  is  a  very  simple  story  that  need  not  be  detailed  in  this 
connection.  The  pupils  should  be  taught  to  study  the  great  drama, 
not  as  a  spectator  reviews  the  panorama  of  the  stage,  but  as  active 
participants.  For  most  people  history  is  an  affair  of  the  books ; 
for  our  pupils  it  should  be  a  matter  of  present  concern  and  of 
personal  experience.  It  is  only  as  they  really  become  intelligent 
as  to  man's  place  in  nature  that  the  theory  of  self-government  can 
be  appreciated  or  fully  understood.  It  is  from  such  wisdom  that 
the  proper  machinery  of  government  must  be  devised,  so  that  the 
mutual  and  natural  relations  between  the  governed  and  their  repre- 


THE  SCOPE  OF  NATURE-STUDY  43 

sentatives  may  be  preserved.  Civics  is  as  essentially  a  subject  of 
natural  history  as  are  the  instincts  of  the  brute  creation  or  the 
habits  of  climbing  plants.  When  we  learn  how  to  draw  its  lessons 
from  the  story  of  man's  efforts  to  adapt  him^self  to  ever  changing 
conditions,  it  will  be  possible  to  frame  a  machinery  of  government 
that  will  be  flexible  enough  to  meet  his  growing  needs,  and  still 
have  all  the  stability  of  nature's  laws. 


CHAPTER   III. 
THE  STUDY  OF  INDIVIDUALS   VERSUS  THAT  OF  TYPES. 

One  of  the  most  important  reasons  for  the  remarkable  hold 
which  the  stories  of  history  and  biography  take  upon  the  minds 
of  children,  and  of  older  students,  too,  is  the  fact  that  they  contain 
a  dramatic  element  which  fires  the  imagination.  The  characters 
portrayed  in  history  are  in  action ;  they  are  doing  something  which 
always  involves  their  relations  to  others,  and  the  part  they  play  is 
easily  recognized  as  being  essential  in  the  general  movement.  The 
events  themselves  become  the  embodiment  of  action.  One  thing 
follows  another  in  an  order  that  stirs  the  emotions,  appeals  to  the 
reason,  and  irresistibly  fastens  the  entire  attention.  The  treat- 
ment also  of  the  subject-matter  has  been  essentially  different.  In 
the  teaching  of  history,  there  is  a  careful  arrangement  of  details  in  a 
proper  perspective.  The  great  actors  stand  well  in  the  foreground 
as  chief  centers  of  interest.  The  influence  of  a  people,  often  cover- 
ing the  entire  life  of  a  nation,  is  summed  up  as  a  single  event  in  the 
great  historic  succession. 

The  plan  followed  by  most  teachers  of  nature-study  has  been 
the  reverse.  Believing  it  to  be  largely  an  affair  of  the  senses,  the 
pupil  at  the  outset  is  completely  immersed  in  details  so  numerous 
and  minute  that  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  his  reason  and  imagina- 
tion to  reduce  them  to  order.  It  is  as  though  the  teacher  of  history 
should  begin  the  study  of  a  great  military  campaign  by  a  critical 
study  of  all  the  dift'erent  kinds  of  buttons  on  the  uniforms  of  the 
soldiers.  The  imagination  is  a  fact  and  a  factor  in  human  educa- 
tion which  must  be  taken  into  account,  regardless  of  the  kind  of 
subject-matter  presented.  If  the  presentation  for  any  reason  fails 
to  reach  and  rouse  the  imagination,  no  educative  result  can  come 
from  it,  though  the  appeal  may  have  been  made  to  every  sense  in 
the  body.  Many  teachers,  realizing  the  lack  of  this  element  in 
nature-study,  have  sought  to  supply  it  by  treating  all  individuals 
under  the  guise  of  human  beings.  There  is  nothing  in  nature,  from 
a  raindrop  to  an  oyster,  that  has  not  been  personified  in  the  hope 
that  this  personal  relationship  to  the  pupils  may  be  brought  out  a 

44 


THE  STUDY  OF  INDIVIDUALS  VERSUS  THAT  OF  TYPES        45 

little  Stronger.  The  general  effect  of  this  plan  reminds  one  of  the 
grotesqueness  of  the  hand-organ  monkey  that  is  dressed  up  in  a 
red  coat  and  a  cocked  hat.  His  ill-fitting  garments  certainly  add 
nothing  to  his  character  as  a  monkey,  and  they  fail  to  give  him 
anything  of  the  bearing  and  dignity  of  a  man. 

An  attempt  has  been  made  in  the  foregoing  pages  to  show  how 
the  pupil  may  become  properly  conscious  of  the  sweep  and  move- 
ment of  nature.  The  events  of  the  year  keeping  step  with  the 
seasons,  if  properly  presented,  form  the  natural  setting  and  back- 
ground for  all  the  minor  details.  The  latter  must  be  studied  as 
to  the  part  they  play  in  the  well-ordered  whole.  This  leads  to 
a  study  of  personal  traits  and  characteristics  that  are  peculiar  to 
each  individual ;  and  the  study  becomes  a  thousandfold  more  inter- 
esting than  it  is  when  everything  is  reduced  to  the  common 
denominator  —  man.  In  the  past  too  much  emphasis  has  been 
placed  upon  classification.  There  has  been  too  little  attention  given 
to  individuals  and  too  much  stress  laid  upon  types.  The  type  is  a 
figment  of  the  imagination.  The  typical  animal  or  plant  cannot 
do  anything,  because  it  does  not  exist.  Such  study,  therefore,  is 
uninteresting  and  profitless. 

The  most  interesting  thing  about  an  animal  or  plant  is  its  own 
peculiar  methods  of  solving  the  personal  problems  that  come  up 
in  its  life.  It  is  able  to  make  its  way  in  the  world  not  more  by 
reason  of  its  likeness  to  other  individuals  than  by  its  unlikeness  to 
them.  The  most  fortunate  thing  in  life  is  to  be  born  different 
from  everything  else ;  with  just  enough  difference  to  have  a  unique 
point  of  view ;  to  have  novel  ways  of  reaching  results ;  to  be  able 
to  see  the  opposite  sides  of  questions  presented ;  to  be  able  to 
utilize  what  others  waste ;  to  have  the  ability  to  save  when  others 
lavish  —  these  are  the  personal  traits  which  contribute  to  the 
strength  and  virility  of  the  individual,  and  it  is  through  such  that 
the  race  survives.  Everything  born  into  the  world  becomes  the 
immediate  possible  progenitor  of  a  line  of  individuals  not  more 
remarkable  for  their  likenesses  than  for  their  power  to  vary  from 
each  other.  It  is  by  means  of  these  fortunate  unlikenesses  that 
living  forms  have  been  enabled  to  take  possession  of  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  whole  earth. 

While  it  is  barbaric  and  unnatural  therefore,  to  clothe  every- 
thing in  the  garb  of  a  man  in  order  to  study  it,  it  is  most  desirable 


46  THE   THIRD  YEARBOOK 

to  treat  it  as  a  unique  personality  that  has  a  particular  mission  to 
fill  in  the  world's  economy,  and  as  haying  the  power  to  devise 
special  ways  and  means  for  accomplishing  its  work.  Studied  in 
this  way,  it  becomes  an  actor  with  a  definite  part,  not  merely  a 
cumberer  of  the  earth. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  one  rarely  observes  with  care  the  habits  of 
any  particular  creature  without  discovering  that  it  has  some  peculi- 
arity not  noted  in  the  books.  The  hunter  and  trapper,  the  breeder, 
the  fancier,  the  keeper  of  pets,  the  man  of  science,  each  has  his 
story  that  shows  up  the  child  of  nature  from  his  own  particular  line 
of  approach.  The  following  instances,  taken  from  personal  obser- 
vation, will  serve  to  illustrate  the  point : 

I  once  was  on  more  or  less  intimate  terms  with  an  old  fox  that 
had  a  large  family  of  young  housed  in  a  deserted  coal  mine  that 
entered  the  side  of  the  hill  about  half  a  mile  away.  Naturally 
enough,  the  mother  depended  largely  upon  the  farm-yard  prod- 
ucts for  the  maintenance  of  her  family,  and  one  time  I  had  a 
chance  to  study  her  methods.  She  was  observed,  some  distance 
away  from  the  barn,  stalking  a  flock  of  chickens.  She  simply 
walked  after  them,  apparently  knowing  that  if  she  became  too 
enthusiastic  in  the  pursuit,  they  might,  and  probably  would,  take 
wing.  Finding  that  she  was  being  watched,  she  bounded  away 
to  the  den.  Noticing  a  bunch  of  feathers  lying  in  the  course  over 
which  she  had  stalked  the  chickens,  I  proceeded  to  investigate,  not 
doubting  that  I  should  find  the  mangled  remains  of  a  fowl.  To 
my  astonishment,  instead,  I  found  a  rooster,  with  his  heels  in  the 
air,  lying  on  his  back  in  a  shallow  hole,  left  by  a  horse's  foot  in 
the  soft  turf,  and  entirely  unhurt.  When  I  set  him  upon  his  feet, 
he  ran  away,  no  doubt  much  surprised  to  find  himself  alive.  The 
fox  evidently  had  put  the  chicken  on  his  back  into  this  hole,  at 
the  same  time  hypnotizing  him  into  the  belief  that  he  could  not 
extricate  himself.  Presumably  he,  by  following  this  plan  up,  would 
have  secured  a  full  load  of  poultry  before  returning  to  the  den 
to  face  the  clamoring  youngsters.  I  subsequently  tried  the  same 
experiment  upon  a  rooster,  and  found  that  by  placing  him  on  his 
back,  as  the  fox  had  done,  I,  too,  could  make  him  lie  still  —  but  I 
learned  the  trick  from  the  fox.  I  have  never  read  of  a  similar 
observation,  and  cannot  say  whether  it  was  a  habit  peculiar  to  this 
particular  fox  or  not. 


THE  STUDY  OF  INDIVIDUALS  VERSUS  THAT  OF  TYPES        47 

One  time,  in  a  large  city,  I  kept  an  opossum  as  a  pet  for  nearly 
a  year.  It  is  a  misnomer  to  speak  of  him  as  such,  for  he  never 
seemed  to  appreciate  in  any  way  the  attentions  he  received.  One 
day  in  the  summer  he  escaped,  and  for  a  time  all  trace  of  him 
was  lost.  The  following  spring,  hearing  that  a  man  several  blocks 
away  had  killed  an  opossum  which  he  had  caught  in  his  chicken- 
house,  I  visited  the  place  and  found  that  it  was  my  unfortunate  pet. 
The  man  said  that  he  had  been  missing  chickens  all  winter,  but 
had  been  unable  to  find  the  marauder  until  he  had  actually  lain  in 
wait  for  him.  The  interesting  point  was  to  know  where  the 
creature  had  lived  all  these  months  following  his  escape.  About 
half  a  mile  away  was  a  shelving  rocky  cliff  formicd  by  the  construc- 
tion of  a  railway  tunnel  through  a  hill.  It  seemed  most  plausible 
that  he  had  sought  shelter  and  refuge  in  this  place,  but  one  could 
not  be  sure.  The  important  fact  was  that  this  stupid  (?)  little 
beastie,  reared  in  the  wilds  of  the  Blue  Ridge  Mountains,  with  cer- 
tainly no  opportunities  of  knowing  city  ways,  had  managed  to 
support  himself  and  remain  undiscovered  for  nearly  a  year,  in  the 
midst  of  thousands  of  his  most  deadly  enemies.  Could  a  human 
being  under  corresponding  circumstances  have  done  any  better? 
Would  a  Japanese  spy  get  along  so  well  if  he  tried  to  live  in 
Russia?  \et  the  opossum  took  just  such  chances  in  staying  in  the 
city,  and  he  must  have  found  it  necessary  to  invent  some  ways  of 
doing  things  that  were  new  and  strange  to  the  "  typical  '  possum.' " 

It  is  well  known  that  the  members  of  the  pigeon  family  lay  but 
two  eggs.  I  once  found  a  dove's  nest  in  an  apple  tree  that  con- 
tained but  one  young  one.  While  it  was  still  quite  small  the  mother 
dove  laid  a  second  ^^%.  This  one  the  young  dove  kept  warm  until 
it  was  finally  hatched ;  by  this  time  the  first  one  was  able  to  leave 
the  nest.  Whether  this  curious  arrangement  was  made  by  accident 
or  design  it  is  difficult  to  say.  The  only  advantage  seemed  to  be 
in  the  fact  that  the  nest  did  not  have  to  be  quite  so  large,  nor 
the  food  supply  at  any  one  time  quite  so  great.  I  have  never  seen 
it  noted  as  being  a  characteristic  habit  of  doves. 

I  recall  an  instance  where  a  weasel  produced  a  reign  of  terror 
in  a  certain  chicken-house,  and  a  reign  of  indignation  in  the  house- 
hold, for  almiost  an  entire  summer  before  his  whereabouts  were 
discovered.  The  marauder  was  known  to  be  a  weasel  from  the 
peculiar  way  that  the  chickens  were  killed.     In  each  case  the  throat 


48  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

was  cut,  and  often  there  would  be  a  number  of  victims  in  one  night. 
One  day  while  in  the  door-yard  I  saw  something  like  a  flash  dart 
down  a  gatepost  and  enter  a  knot-hole  on  the  side.  Investigation 
revealed  the  devastator  of  the  chicken-coop.  This  creature  had 
managed  to  maintain  itself  on  the  fowls  and  to  live  within  one 
hundred  feet  of  the  door  of  the  dwelling,  in  a  gatepost  which  was 
passed  scores  of  times  every  day  by  the  different  members  of  the 
family.  It  appeared  that  he  had  the  habit  of  entering  the  hole  by 
coming  down  the  post,  and  that  he  traveled  to  and  from  the  chicken 
house  on  a  fence  so  that  he  was  safe  from  discovery  by  the  dogs. 

An  even  more  remarkable  case  was  that  of  a  polecat  that 
made  her  nest  and  reared  her  young  almost  to  maturity  in  a  pile  of 
old  fence  rails  that  lay  within  a  few  feet  of  a  path  between  the 
house  and  barn.  There  were  two  or  three  dogs  about  whose  sole 
business  was  to  look  after  '*  varmints,"  but  this  family  was  able 
to  thrive  undiscovered,  and  their  presence  was  revealed  only  by 
an  accident.  Of  course,  this  animal  is  nocturnal  in  its  habits,  but 
how,  even  so,  it  was  able  to  leave  and  return  to  the  wood-pile  for 
almost  an  entire  summer  without  once  rousing  the  suspicions  of  the 
inquisitive  dogs  must  always  remain  a  mystery. 

These  animals  adapted  themselves  to  new  and  novel  situations. 
It  seems  almost  impossible  to  believe  that  they  obey  merely  the 
instincts  of  the  type,  the  traditions  of  the  race.  Apparently  they 
had  to  invent  ways  of  getting  along  that  were  made  necessary  by 
the  strange  and  dangerous  surroundings. 

The  knowledge  acquired  by  working  out  the  customs  of  indi- 
viduals is  more  interesting  and  stimulating  in  the  direction  of 
further  study  than  anything  that  can  be  gotten  from  books  or  from 
a  more  general  study  of  types.  The  sam.e  principle  must  be  applied 
to  the  study  of  nature  that  we  observe  in  the  study  of  human  beings. 
No  one  is  interested,  except  in  a  general  way,  for  example,  in  the 
study  of  tailors  as  a  class.  But  the  study  of  how  the  individual 
tailor  makes  his  way,  by  contriving  special  forms  of  advertising, 
by  changing  the  cut  of  his  clothes,  and  by  other  devices  that  are 
peculiar  to  himself,  and  which  tend  to  distinguish  him  —  these 
are  full  of  mterest.  The  same  applies  to  all  living  things.  The 
fact  that  they  are  on  the  earth  today  shows  how  skilful  they  have 
been  in  devising  ways  and  means  of  self-support.  Those  less 
skilful  are  embalmed  in  the  rocks  as  fossils  or  have  utterly  disap- 


THE  STUDY  OF  INDIVIDUALS  VERSUS  THAT  OF  TYPES        49 

peared.  The  survivors,  therefore,  should  be  objects  of  the  greatest 
individual  interest.  In  their  field  their  skill  outwits  our  own. 
Were  we  to  attempt  to  live  by  the  chances  taken  by  a  kingfisher, 
we  should  have  to  go  to  school  to  the  kingfishers  for  a  million 
years.  It  is  only  through  the  study  of  the  personal  life  of  the 
individuals  that  we  can  have  that  true  nature-study  upon  which  we 
must  depend  to  broaden  the  sympathies  of  the  children  for  the 
world  of  nature  at  large. 


CHAPTER   IV. 
NATURE-STUDY   AND   EXPRESSION. 

In  nature-study  it  is  indispensable  that  adequate  and  intelligible 
records,  corresponding  to  the  different  modes  of  observation,  shall 
be  carefully  made  and  preserved.  Few  people  seem  to  appreciate 
sufficiently  the  importance  of  appropriate  and  adequate  expression. 
Teachers  are  apt  to  be  content  with  having  the  pupils  see,  and  then 
"  tell  what  they  see "  in  oral  language,  forgetting  that  the  most 
and  the  best  that  they  have  to  tell  cannot  be  expressed  in  that  way. 
The  fear  that  the  technical  side  of  the  various  modes  of  expression 
cannot  be  mastered  in  the  earlier  grades  adds  materially  to  the 
difficulty.  The  fact  is,  however,  that  the  mere  technical  or  formal 
side  of  a  subject  is  always  the  easiest  part  of  the  subject  to  learn. 

Whatever  may  be  the  mode  employed  it  is  of  the  greatest 
importance  that  the  expression  shall  be  preserved  carefully  in  the 
form  of  a  record  of  the  work  done.  Such  a  record  is  a  powerful 
and  a  perfectly  legitimate  stimulus  to  further  study  and  eft'ort,  and 
at  the  same  time  stands  as  a  coherent  history  of  what  has  been 
accomplished.  In  this  way,  also,  a  just  basis  is  established  for  the 
judgment  of  teacher,  parent,  and  pupil  as  to  the  merits  of  the  work. 

I.       COLOR. 

Among  the  records  that  can  be  made  by  pupils  of  all  grades 
there  is  no  one  capable  of  a  wider  and  more  varied  application  than 
that  of  color.  Of  the  mediums  that  may  be  employed,  for  simpli- 
city and  effectiveness  water-colors  are  superior  to  others.  With 
children  and  with  all  beginners  this  record  has  the  highest  value : 
first,  because  with  children,  particularly,  nature  exists  as  a  thing 
of  color,  and  it  is  through  color  that  it  makes  its  earliest  appeal ; 
second,  because  the  simplicity  of  the  materials  used  —  water-colors 
—  enables  the  children  to  express  more  fully  and  more  graphically, 
by  this  means  than  by  any  other,  what  they  see- 
Fig.  I  shows  one  month's  record  in  a  pictorial  history  of  the  year 
in  color.  In  the  Chicago  Normal  and  Practice  School  this  plan 
was  followed  with  various  modifications  for  several  years.     Above 

50 


Fig.  I.— Pictorial  History  for  November.     (Water  Color.) 


Fig.  2.—  History  of  the  Dandelion.     (Water  Color.) 


NA  TURE-STUD  Y  AND  EXPRESSION  5 1 

the  fifth  grade,  the  pupils  daily  painted  the  landscape,  having  chosen 
the  time  and  place  most  convenient  or  that  would  best  tell  the 
story  of  the  day.  By  vote  of  the  children,  that  landscape  was  chosen 
which  seemed  to  be  the  most  faithful  portrayal,  and  it  was  mounted 
upon  a  card.  Fig.  i  shows  the  record  of  the  month  of  November. 
Space  forbids  the  reproduction  of  more  of  these,  and  the  effective- 
ness is  also  much  impaired  by  the  necessary  loss  of  color  in  the 
half-tone.  As  such  cards  are  prepared,  day  by  day  and  month 
by  month,  they  form  a  record  of  the  transient  aspects  of  the  land- 
scape that  is  far  more  graphic  and  impressive  than  any  other  form 
of  expression  that  can  be  used  by  the  pupils.  The  series  of  cards 
for  the  year  show  with  surprising  clearness  and  with  panoramic 
force  the  seasonal  aspects  that  appear  in  color.  No  other  form 
of  record  brings  out  so  well  those  subtle  changes,  occurring  from 
day  to  day  and  through  the  seasons,  which  appeal  so  strongly  to  the 
aesthetic  sense.  All  are  invariably  filled  with  surprise  to  find  the 
incessant  change  in  the  shades  of  green  that  sweep  over  the  land- 
scape during  the  summer.  No  two  months  are  the  same.  The 
earliest  tingeing  of  autumn  shades  strikes  the  treetops,  and  through 
a  series  of  browns  and  yellows  finally  descends  to  the  winter  drab 
of  the  ground.  In  the  spring  the  earliest  signs  of  reviving  life 
appear  on  the  surface,  and  they  gradually  work  their  way,  through 
a  new  series  of  shades,  to  the  treetops  again.  In  the  winter  almost 
the  entire  color  effect  is  derived  from  the  dead  —  the  dried  grass 
and  weeds,  the  bark  on  the  trees  —  and  from  the  inorganic  domain 
of  nature  —  the  ground,  rocks,  streams,  bodies  of  water,  snow, 
and  ice.  That  this  scene  does  not  become  a  pulseless  monotony 
through  the  long  winter  is  very  largely  due  to  the  infinite  change 
in  appearance  that  is  wrought  by  its  constantly  shifting  background 
—  the  sky.  The  rose  and  the  pink,  the  purple,  the  lilac,  the  gray  and 
blue  of  the  winter  heavens  in  the  evening  and  morning,  seem  to  be 
the  finest  of  the  year. 

In  the  summer  time  color  speaks  of  life  and  of  work.  Every 
hue  and  shade  tells  of  something  done  —  of  a  twig  that  has  grown, 
of  a  flower,  or  of  a  fruit.  No  record  of  tongue  or  pen  that  the 
children  can  prepare  will  compare  in  its  completeness  and  vividness 
with  this  history  which  they  can  write  with  the  brush. 

In  descending  to  the  details  of  the  landscape  the  same  mode  of 
expression  may  be  used  with  equal  effect.     In  Fig.  2  there  is  given 


52  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

the  history  of  a  dandehon  from  its  earHest  sprout  to  the  seed.  This 
history  finds  an  interesting  parallel  in  the  docks,  thistle,  cinquefoil, 
and  many  other  plants  that  are  in  almost  every  vacant  spot  of 
ground. 

In  F'ig.  3  the  story  of  germination  is  told  in  a  series  of  paintings 
illustrating  the  growth  of  the  ragweed  which  infested  a  vacant  lot 
adjacent  to  the  schoolhouse.  These  plants  were  observed  through 
the  spring ;  and  in  the  autumn,  when  school  reopened,  the  children 
again  went  to  the  lot  and  finished  the  history  by  studying  and 
representing  the  full-grown  plant  with  ripened  seed. 

It  has  taken  teachers  a  long  time  to  find  out  how  much  more 
interesting  it  is  to  study  germination  when  all  creation  is  sprouting 
than  it  is  when  observations  must  be  confined  solely  to  window- 
boxes.  The  latter  may  supplement,  but  they  should  not  take  the 
place  of,  outdoor  study.  Ey  the  latter  means  only,  when  the  plants 
are  starting  under  natural  conditions,  is  it  possible  for  the  pupils 
to  find  out  the  fundamental  facts  in  germination.  A  seed  repre- 
sents a  plant  in  a  state  of  isolation.  Germination  and  growth  mean 
the  establishment  of  definite  relations  with  heat,  moisture,  and 
light.  When  the  proper  degree  of  heat  is  reached,  the  plantlet 
establishes  relations  wath  moisture,  w^hich  it  finds  in  the  soil,  by 
means  of  a  root.  A  little  later  it  forms  its  relationship  with  light 
by  means  of  stem  and  leaf.  The  relative  importance  of  these  two 
relationships  is  indicated  by  the  measurements  of  root  and  stem. 
Later,  as  the  plant  develops,  the  part  that  the  leaf  plays  in  the 
plant's  adaptation  to  varying  quantities  of  heat  and  moisture  also 
appears. 

The  study  of  germination  in  this  manner  includes  observations 
on  the  temperature  of  the  soil  at  different  depths,  the  moisture  in 
the  soil,  the  temperature  of  the  air,  and  the  distribution  of  sunshine 
and  rainfall. 

Another  interesting  detail  of  the  landscape  which  may  be  studied 
in  the  same  way  is  the  development  of  branches,  flowers,  and  leaves 
from  buds.  Fig.  4  shows  such  a  record  made  by  fifth-grade  pupils 
from  a  study  of  various  trees  in  the  neighborhood.  This  history 
shows  that  in  taking  up  the  work  of  a  new  season  the  plants  form 
a  regular  procession,  in  time,  in  which  each  has  a  tolerably  well- 
defined  place. 

The  bud,  like  the  seed,  has  several  interesting  problems  to  solve. 


/ 


/ 


li- 


f 


Fig.  3.— History  of  the  Ragweed.     (Water  Color.) 


P^IG.  4. —  Development  of  Leaves.     (Water  Color.) 


NA  TURE-STUD  V  AND  EXPRESSION  5  3 

It  involves  no  small  risk  to  unfold  the  tender  leaflets  and  shoots  to 
the  uncertainties  of  early  spring.  The  extent  of  the  risk  may  be 
broadly  imagined  by  the  numbers  of  dormant  buds  that  are  held 
as  reserves.  In  sundry  ways  each  plant  tries  to  checkmate  the 
possible  treachery  of  the  elements.  In  some  cases,  as  m  the  ash, 
the  bud  scales  grow  and  attain  considerable  size,  thus  affording  the 
early  protection  possibly  needed.  In  others  the  stipules  perform 
a  similar  office ;  and  all  seek  to  gain  more  or  less  time,  before 
fully  exposing  the  young  leaf  surface  to  the  glare  of  heat  and  light, 
by  a  diversity  of  folding,  wrinkling,  and  curling  of  leaves.  The 
brilliant  coloring  of  some  young  leaves,  as  in  the  oak  and  sassafras, 
probably  expresses  a  heat-relation  by  means  of  which  the  young 
cells  are  able  to  extract  a  little  more  warmth  from  the  sunshine, 
and  thus  give  the  plant  the  advantage  of  a  little  earlier  start.  This 
seems  like  a  doubtful  explanation  in  the  case  of  the  sassafras,  at 
least,  whose  young  leaves  put  forth  in  July  are  as  highly  colored 
as  those  are  which  start  in  April  and  May. 

In  addition  to  their  work  upon  the  landscape  and  its  details, 
many  of  which  limited  space  forbids  even  mention,  the  pupils 
for  several  years  had  under  observation  an  area  known  as  the 
school  garden.  A  view  of  this  is  given  in  Fig.  5.  The  garden 
was  about  40  by  50  meters,  and  contained  approximately  half  an 
acre.  It  was  divided  in  various  ways  to  suit  changing  conditions, 
but  always  in  such  manner  as  to  give  each  grade,  from  the  kinder- 
garten up,  a  fair  proportion  of  the  ground  to  care  for.  It  is  a  great 
point  for  the  teacher  to  recognize  the  fact  that  children's  interests 
are  by  no  means  all  identical  in  nature-study.  None  are  lacking 
in  all  interest,  but  very  few  interests  run  exactly  in  the  same  chan- 
nel. The  value  of  the  work  is  much  enhanced  by  throwing  open 
the  whole  field  to  the  pupils.  Some  of  them,  therefore,  have  been 
allowed  to  follow  up  certain  phases  of  the  garden-work,  while 
others  have  devoted  themselves  more  closely  to  the  wild  plants  or 
to  the  birds  or  insects.  As  the  different  pupils  report  upon  their 
work,  however,  there  always  appears  a  considerable  community  of 
interest,  corresponding  to  the  interrelations  that  develop  among  the 
things  studied. 

In  autumn  the  color  record  becomes,  if  possible,  more  varied 
and  richer.  The  landscape  changes  are  more  vivid  and  striking. 
Insect  life  is   at  its   best.     Caterpillars   in   almost   endless   variety 


54  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

afford  continued  entertainment,  and  through  their  curious  habits 
initiate  the  children  into  some  of  the  most  interesting  of  Hfe's 
mysteries.  Fig.  6  shows  some  of  these  studies.  One  is  that  of 
a  caterpillar  that  found  its  way  into  the  schoolroom,  and  in  seeking 
the  upper  corner  of  the  window  frame  in  order  to  spin  its  coccoon, 
for  reasons  possibly  known  to  itself,  certainly  not  to  the  observers, 
it  spun  for  itself  a  kind  of  Jacob's  ladder  on  the  zvindow  pane,  by 
means  of  which  it  climbed  to  its  destination. 

Another  is  that  of  the  sand  spider  which  the  children  dug  out 
of  a  sand  dune  at  a  depth  of  two  feet.  This  little  creature  had 
walled  up  its  chimney-like  burrow  with  a  finely  woven  web  which 
prevented  the  loose  sand  from  caving  in  upon  it  when,  relatively, 
as  far  below  the  surface  as  a  man  would  be  in  one  of  our  deepest 
mines. 

A  third  study  shows  the  larva,  a  caterpillar,  which  has  itself 
become  the  unwilling  and  luckless  host  that  supports  two  or  three 
score  of  smaller  larv^,  which  now  have  spun  their  tiny  white 
coccoons  on  the  outside  of  its  miserable  and  shriveling  body.  A 
fourth  shows  how  some  of  the  insects  have  successfully  run  the 
gauntlet  so  far  as  to  be  snugly  ensconced  in  their  winter  garments 
—  the  coccoon.  But  whether  they  shall  escape  the  lynx-eyed,  hungry 
blue  jay,  and  emerge  in  the  springtime  in  the  glorified  garments 
of  their  final  transfiguration,  no  one  can  tell. 

II.      DRAWING. 

There  is  a  good  deal  of  confusion  in  the  minds  of  most  teachers 
as  to  the  relations  of  painting  or  color- work  to  drawing.  It  is 
evident  that  both  modes  of  expression,  as  such,  have  certain  ele- 
ments in  common.  For  exam.ple,  form  in  two  dimensions  must  be 
expressed  by  both.  It  is  equally  clear,  though,  that  there  must  be 
some  points  of  fundamental  difference,  and  the  failure  to  recognize 
these  leads  to  undiscriminating  and  vague  use  of  both.  The  func- 
tion of  any  mode  of  expression  depends  upon  the  nature  of  the 
image.  In  this  case  it  would  seem,  therefore,  that  when  the  func- 
tion of  the  thing  observed  is  expressed  through  color,  wholly  or 
chiefly  and  the  image  thus  is  largely  visual  painting  is  the  proper 
mode  to  be  adopted.  But  in  cases  when  the  color  is  secondary  in 
denoting  function,  and  when  outline  is  primary,  and  the  image  is 
therefore  chiefly  motor,  then  drawing  is  the  most  direct  mode  to 


Fig.  5.— The  School  Garden. 


Fig.  $a. — The  Same  Garden  in  the  Month  of  June. 


Fig.  6. —  Paintings  with  Written  Work. 


NA  TU RE-STUD  V  AND  EXPRESSION  5  5 

be  used.  As  an  illustration  of  this  point,  it  may  be  said  that  when 
a  child  sketches  a  tree  in  winter  with  its  bare  branches,  color  plays 
a  secondary  and  unimportant  part ;  but  the  outline  of  the  tree,  by  the 
direction  of  its  branches  and  the  contour  of  its  top  gives  rise  to  an 
image  involving  direction  and  distance,  and  the  image  is  therefore 
chiefly  motor,  and  drawing  is  the  direct  and  appropriate  mode  of 
expression.  But  in  the  summer,  when  the  life  of  the  tree  is  shown 
in  the  color  of  the  leaves,  the  contour  of  the  top  and  other  outlines 
are  secondary;  the  image  is  chiefly  visual  and  painting  becomes 
the  appropriate  mode. 

III.       MODELING. 

The  relation  of  both  these  modes  of  expression  to  modeling  is 
obvious.  When  the  function  of  the  thing  is  expressed  wholly  or 
chiefly  only  when  the  third  dimension  is  taken  into  account,  then 
the  image  becomes  motor,  and  it  is  clear  that  modeling  is  the  directly 
appropriate  mode  of  expression.  For  example,  in  the  case  of  a 
fruit,  the  chief  function  is  not  dependent  upon  either  color  or  out- 
line, but  upon  the  form  in  three  dimensions.  The  image  is,  there- 
fore, motor;  and  since  the  three  dimensions  are  involved,  modeling 
is  the  mode  that  should  be  used.  If,  now,  color,  too,  plays  an 
important  function,  as  it  does  in  the  case  of  some  fruits,  then  the 
model  should  be  colored  also,  because  an  important  aspect  of  the 
image  is  visual. 

IV.       MAKING. 

The  great  value  of  making,  which  is  here  intended  to  include 
all  forms  of  manual  training  and  constructive  work,  lies  in  the  fact 
that  the  thing  made  need  not  be  constructed  in  accordance  with 
any  model  or  pattern.  In  painting  a  landscape,  the  result,  to  be 
rational,  must  embody  the  essential  features  of  this  or  that  area, 
or  it  may  be  a  composite  of  many  areas.  But  in  building  a  con- 
veyance, for  example,  the  maker  is  at  liberty  to  invent  a  form  never 
yet  beheld  by  anyone  —  the  only  prime  requisite  being  that  it  shall 
perform  its  function  better  than  any  other  conveyance  already  built. 
In  this  respect,  mechanical  drawing  is  closely  allied  to  making. 

Nature-study  opens  up  an  exhaustless  field  for  manual  work, 
not  only  in  the  construction  of  apparatus,  but  in  the  performance 
of  experiments  in  physics,  chemistry,  and  other  sciences,  all  of 
which  require  the  constant  exercise  of  the  inventive  function  of  the 
mind  and  the  greatest  manual  skill  that  the  pupil  can  command. 


56  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

V.       RE.\DING    AND    WRITING. 

It  is  needless  to  dwell  upon  the  fact  that  the  chief  reasons  why 
reading  and  writing  become  irksome  tasks  are  that  the  form  side  has 
been  emphasized  at  the  expense  of  interesting  content.  The  ordinary 
school-work  does  not  furnish  a  great  demand  for  the  use  of  these 
particular  tools.  In  order  to  illustrate  the  part  that  these  subjects 
may  play  in  nature-study  from  the  earliest  steps  in  observation,  the 
following  lesson  is  given  with  a  summary  showing  the  way  in  which 
it  was  prepared  and  something  of  its  educational  value : 

READING    LESSON    ON    THE    FARM. 

November  2  we  went  to  visit  a  farm. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day. 

Deep-blue  sky  above  us. 

Not  a  cloud  in  it. 

Cool  fresh  air  around  us. 

Bright  warm  sunshine  all  day  long. 

"  The  nicest  day  of  all  the  year !  "  said  Fritz. 

The  farm  we  visited  is  fifteen  miles  from  our  school. 

It  is  on  Halsted  Street. 

We  might  have  gone  all  the  way  out  in  wagons. 

That  was  too  slow  for  us. 

It  took  us  forty-two  minutes  to  go  to  Thornton,  on  the  trahi. 

Then  we  were  only  one  mile  and  a  half  from  the  farm. 

Big  hay-wagons  were  waiting  for  us  at  the  station. 

Oh,  what  fun  we  had  going  to  the  farm! 

We  passed  a  big  limestone  quarry. 

We  wanted  to  see  it. 

But  we  could  not  stop  for  that. 

We  passed  some  beautiful  oak  woods. 

We  wanted  to  gather  leaves. 

But  we  could  not  stop  for  that. 

We  passed  a  great  yard  full  of  horses  and  colts. 

We  wanted  to  watch  them. 

But  we  could  not  stop  for  that. 

We  passed  cows  and  calves,  goats  and  little  pigs. 

We  saw  old  hens  and  chickens,  and  a  big,  proud  peacock. 

But  we  could  not  stop  for  any  of  these  things. 

They  needed  our  horses  at  the  farm,  you  see. 

After  a  while  we  came  to  more  beautiful  woods. 


NATURE-STUDY  AND  EXPRESSION  57 

We  heard  turkeys  gobbling. 
We  saw  a  red-brick  house. 
We  were  at  the  farm. 

The  people  at  the  farm  were  very  kind  to  us. 
They  came  out  to  meet  us. 
They  let  us  go  everywhere. 
I'hey  let  us  see  everything. 

We  went  first  to  the  horse-barn. 

We  saw  each  horse  go  into  his  stall. 

They  were  fine,  large  horses. 

They  were  black,  white,  and  brown. 

Some  of  us  liked  the  white  one  best. 

Some  liked  the  big  black  one  best. 

In  each  stall  was  a  manger  full  of  hay. 

We  saw  the  horses  fed  and  watered. 

We  saw  them  hitched  up  for  work. 

The  man  showed  us  how  he  kept  the  horses  clean. 

He  combed  their  hair  with  a  curry-comb. 

One  boy  said :     "  I  am  glad  my  hair  is  not  combed  that  way !  " 

The  man  showed  us  the  hayloft  full  of  hay. 

He  showed  us  the  oat-bin  full  of  oats. 

Then  we  went  to  the  cow-barn. 

The  cows  were  out  in  the  cow-yard. 

That  was  back  of  the  barn. 

There  were  twenty-five  cows  in  the  yard. 

In  the  barn  was  a  little  black  and  white  calf. 

It  was  only  two  days  old. 

Its  mother  was  in  the  yard. 

She  kept  calling  it. 

It  always  answered  her. 

"  Moo  !    Moo  ! ''  said  the  old  cow. 

"  Maa !    Maa  !  "  said  the  little  calf. 

We  wanted  to  stay  and  watch  him. 

But  there  were  many  things  to  see,  yet. 

We  had  to  go  on. 

We  saw  all  the  food  for  the  cows. 

There  was  ground  corn,  and  oats. 

There  was  plenty  of  hay  and  corn  fodder. 

Corn  fodder  is  the  dry  stalks  and  blades  of  corn. 

We  saw  the  stalls  where  the  cows  were  milked. 

They  were  not  like  the  horses'  stalls. 


58  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

There  were  no  mangers  in  them. 

There  were  slats  to  hold  the  cows'  heads  straight. 

Why  do  people  wish  to  hold  the  cows'  heads  straight? 

We  saw  much  straw  for  the  cows'  beds. 

In  summer  the  cows  sleep  outdoors. 

Then  we  went  to  see  the  pigs. 

They  grunted  and  squealed  when  they  saw  us. 

*'  Give  us  something  to  eat,"  they  said. 

We  ground  corn  for  them  m  the  corn-grinder. 

We  fed  them  some  of  our  lunches. 

Still  they  grunted  and  squealed. 

Pigs  never  seem  to  know  when  they  have  enough  to  eat. 

They  would  eat  all  the  time,  I  think. 

Then  we  went  to  see  the  machines. 

There  was  a  shed  full  of  them. 

There  was  a  ground-roller. 

We  rode  on  that  awhile. 

There  was  a  drill  to  make  holes  for  the  seeds. 

There  was  a  hay-rake  and  corn-cutter. 

There  were  a  great  many  other  machines,  but  we  did  not  see  them  used. 

Then  it  was  noon. 

We  sat  down  outdoors  to  eat  our  lunches. 

Some  of  us  sat  on  pumpkins  on  the  porch. 

Some  of  us  sat  under  the  trees. 

It  was  nice  to  look  up  at  the  blue  sky. 

We  had  to  look  out  through  the  red  and  yellow  leaves. 

There  was  a  large  woods  across  trom  the  house. 

Oh,  there  were  such  pretty  leaves  on  those  trees ! 

The  oak  leaves  were  purple,  brown,  and  red.  • 

The  maple  leaves  were  bright  yellow. 

The  pines  were  deep  green. 

After  lunch  we  ran  over  into  the  woods. 

We  played  games  and  climbed  trees. 

We  filled  baskets  with  acorns  for  Bunny,  our  squirrel. 

We  gathered  pretty  leaves  to  take  home  to  mother. 

We  saw  a  man  cut  down  a  pine  tree. 

First  he  cut  a  notch  all  around  with  his  ax. 

Then  he  cut  in  deeper  and  deeper  on  one  side. 

Down  came  the  fine  tree. 

We  wondered  why  he  cut  it  down. 

One  boy  said:     "It's  for  a  Christmas  tree." 


NA  TURK- STUD  V  AND  EXPRESSION  J  5  9 

Do  you  think  it  was? 

Another  said :    ''  Oh,  they  want  to  get  the  pineapples." 

He  thought  the  cones  were  pineapples. 

That  was  a  joke.    Do  you  know  why? 

We  went  to  see  the  man  plow  a  field. 

It  took  three  horses  to  draw  the  plow. 

The  plow-knife  was  round  like  a  wheel. 

It  cut  through  the  sod. 

The  plowshare  was  behind  the  wheel. 

It  was  made  of  bright  steel. 

It  turned  the  soil  over. 

It  was  a  long,  long  field,  but  we  went  to  the  end  of  it. 

The  soil  by  the  house  was  sandy,  but  this  soil  was  black. 

We  brought  some  of  it  home. 

It  is  not  like  our  garden  soil. 

At  four  o'clock  we  all  got  into  the  hay-wagon  again. 

"  Good-bye,  pretty  woods,"  said  one  girl. 

"  Good-bye,  nice  farm,"  said  another. 

"  Good-bye,  and  thank  you,"  we  all  said  to  the  kind  people. 

Then  we  came  home. 

Was  it  not  a  nice  day? 

In  summing  up  this  lesson  as  to  its  educational  place  and 
function,  the  following  points  may  be  noted : 

1.  The  day's  observations  of  a  widely  varied  character,  enlisted 
the  equally  varied  interests  of  the  pupils. 

2.  When  the  pupils  returned  for  days,  perhaps  weeks,  they  were 
permitted  —  invited  —  to  tell  the  stories  of  their  experiences. 

3.  They  were  confronted  by  the  fact  that  the  oral  story  could  not 
be  held  strongly  in  mind,  and  they  at  once  appreciated  the  real 
function  of  writing  as  a  means  of  keeping  a  record. 

4.  The  teacher  at  first  wrote  these  stories,  as  they  came  to  her, 
on  the  blackboard.  This  was  the  strongest  possible  stimulus  for 
the  pupils  themselves  to  make  the  effort  to  write.  It  is  of  the 
utmost  importance  that  the  teacher  be  a  clearly  legible  and  rapid 
writer,  so  that  the  pupils  may  have  as  nearly  as  possible  the  perfect 
copy. 

As  to  the  method,  the  teacher  wrote  the  entire  sentence  or  story. 
After  the  opportunity  of  a  minute  or  two  had  been  allowed  the  pupils 
for  examination,  it  was  erased  and  they  were  permitted  to  try  to 
reproduce  it  from  memory.     If  they  failed,  as  they  always  did  at 


6o  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

first,  the  sentence  was  rewritten,  and  repeated  trials  were  permitted 
until  the  pupils  could  reproduce  the  story.  This  was  to  induce  the 
pupils  to  grasp  and  hold  the  entire  thought  and  the  complete  forms 
that  embodied  it,  and  to  prevent  that  painful  copying,  letter  by 
letter,  which  is  the  bane  of  the  old  copy-book  method. 

5.  As  the  stories  were  written  on  the  board,  they  were  read  by 
the  pupils.  These  were  interesting  to  all,  because  each  generally 
contained  some  bit  of  a  picture  that  had  partly  or  wholly  escaped 
the  attention  of  others,  and  then  writing  and  reading  were  both 
given  immediately  their  proper  function. 

6.  It  was  soon  evident  to  the  pupils  that  the  order  in  which  the 
stories  were  told  by  the  class  was  not  the  best  to  express  the 
experiences  of  the  day  as  a  whole.  They  then  selected  those  stories 
which  bore  upon  the  same  point  and  grouped  them  together,  form- 
ing something  of  a  chapter.  Within  this  chapter,  too,  they  arranged 
the  stories  m  the  most  effective  sequence. 

7.  When  this  work  was  done,  the  stories  were  copied  upon 
paper  and  sent  to  the  printing-office.  In  a  day  of  two  it  came  back 
in  large  type.  It  was  a  matter  of  some  conjecture  as  to  whether 
the  pupils  would  care  to  read  the  story,  now,  after  having  dealt 
with  the  details  so  fully  before  printing.  But  the  doubt  was 
immediately  dispelled.  There  was  the  most  eager  desire  to  read  — 
partly,  no  doubt,  from  the  novelty,  and  from  the  fact  that  each  had 
contributed  to  the  composition,  and  therefore  had  a  desire  to  see 
himself  in  print ;  but,  in  the  main,  because  through  the  reading  they 
actually  lived  the  day  over  again.  In  this  way  the  reading  per- 
formed its  perfect  function  as  an  aid  in  imaging. 

Of  course,  the  pupils  did  not  recognize  all  the  words  —  perhaps 
not  more  than  half  of  them.  Their  eagerness  to  get  the  meaning, 
though,  rendered  them  alert  in  getting  the  new  ones ;  and  the 
meaning  was  clear  to  all.  Teachers  are  frequently  so  overconsci- 
entious  in  making  sure  that  the  pupils  get  every  word  that  they 
spoil  the  spirit  of  the  reading.  Nobody  is  ever  expert  enough  to  be 
perfectly  sure  that  he  will  know  either  the  pronunciation  or  meaning 
of  every  word  on  the  page  of  the  ordinary  newspaper,  magazine, 
or  book.  Yet  we  get  the  sense  from  the  context  without  this  final 
detail  of  meaning,  and  we  get  from  the  page  all  it  was  intended 
to  give.     The  same  rule  should  apply  to  the  children.     The  nature 


NATURE-STUDY  AND  EXPRESSION  6 1 

picture  is  the  thing  to  be  developed,  and  the  reading  must  be,  and 
it  is,  a  useful  means,  not  a  hindrance,  to  that  end. 

8.  When  the  work  of  the  school,  in  reading  as  well  as  in  other 
subjects,  can  be  printed,  as  it  was  in  the  present  instance,  the  pupils 
can  be  given  an  opportunity  for  bookbinding.  In  the  present  case, 
an  old  book  was  soaked  and  the  cover  removed,  and  the  different 
parts  were  separated  so  that  the  pattern  could  be  obtained.  Then, 
with  cardboard,  and  paper  suitable  for  the  covering,  and  leatheret, 
the  pupils  constructed  a  back  that  held  a  number  of  short  stubs  of 
leaves.  To  these,  they  pasted  the  printed  sheets,  as  they  were 
prepared,  and  thus  built  up  their  own  reader  and  text-book. 

Reading  taught  in  accordance  with  the  principles  suggested 
above  becomes  of  immense  service  to  nature-study,  and  it  is  also 
much  more.  It  makes  a  direct  appeal  to  the  literary  taste.  Not 
only  does  it  create  a  taste  for  what  others  have  written,  but  it  lays 
the  basis  for  literary  composition  by  the  pupil  himself.  The  two 
following  reading  lessons  on  "  Sunrise  "  and  "  Sunset "  are  a  child's 
original  expression  concerning  two  sets  of  natural  phenomena  that 
have  given  to  literature  some  of  its  choicest  gems  : 

SUNRISE. 

I  saw  the  sunrise. 

It  was  beautiful. 

Some  clouds  were  red. 

Some  clouds  were  white  and  pink. 

Some  clouds  were  golden. 

The  sky  was  blue. 

Then  the  sun  came. 

I  could  not  look  at  it. 

It  was  too  bright. 

The  birds  were  singing. 

The  dew  was  on  the  grass. 

The  sun  rose  in  the  east. 

That  way  is  east. 

SUNSET. 

That  way  is  west. 

The  sun  sets  in  the  west. 

I  saw  the  sun  setting. 

It  was  beautiful. 

It  was  large  and  red. 


62  THE  THIRD   YEARBOOK 

I  could  look  at  it. 

Some  clouds  were  golden  and  pink. 
Some  clouds  were  white  and  fleecy. 
The  white  clouds  looked  like  ships. 
The  sky  looked  like  a  great  still  lake. 
Will  you  look  at  the  sunset  tonight? 

Teachers  of  nature-study  too  often  imagine  that  their  work  ends 
when  the  senses  have  been  employed  in  observation.  Pupils  are 
taught  to  observe  for  themselves,  but  they  are  generally  given  the 
impression  that  for  the  literary  and  artistic  aspects  they  must  depend 
upon  others.  Hence,  while  they  see  for  themselves,  they  read  the 
poetry  and  sing  the  songs  of  other  people.  This  is  as  bad  as  it 
would  be  to  have  them  depend  wholly  upon  the  observations  of 
others.  The  literary  and  artistic  impulses  are  roused  in  the  chil- 
dren by  nature,  as  they  have  been  aroused  in  older  people  before 
them,  and  it  is  the  teacher's  business  to  nurture  and  develop  the 
appropriate  forms  of  expression  in  the  children  themselves.  This 
cannot  be  done  by  having  them  always  read  what  has  been  said  any 
more  than  they  can  be  taught  to  observe  by  telling  them  what  some- 
one else  has  seen.  A  field  trip  has  not  been  wholly  successful  if  it 
does  not  rouse  the  artistic  feelings  —  if  it  does  not  stimulate  them 
to  paint,  or  lift  them  up  to  the  use  of  the  best  language ;  or  if 
it  does  not  furnish  the  spirit  for  a  song.  The  chief  reason  why 
these  results  are  not  secured  is  that  teachers  pay  no  attention  to  the 
foundations  which  nature-study  lays  for  them.  These  impulses  in 
children  are  easily  roused ;  but,  uncared  for,  they  soon  wither  and 
die,  never  again  to  reappear.  Hence,  the  dull  and  prosaic  life,  instead 
of  one  rich  in  feeling,  in  sympathy,  and  in  appreciation  of  both 
nature  and  man. 

VI.       MUSIC. 

The  following  song  was  composed  under  the  direction  of  Mrs. 
May  Root  Kern  by  a  class  in  the  Laboratory  School  of  the  Univer- 
sity. Song-writing  should  be  almost  as  common  an  expression  in 
connection  with  nature-study  as  drawing  or  written  composition. 


NATURE-STUDY  AND  EXPRESSION 


63 


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THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 


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CHAPTER   V. 

NUMBER-WORK   IN    NATURE-STUDY. 

It  is  the  function  of  observation  to  define  a  mental  picture  or 
image.  By  means  of  number  the  image  is  defined  through  a  deter- 
mination of  quantity.  In  the  appHcation  of  number  therefore,  the 
same  principles  must  be  observed  that  are  employed  in  defining  the 
image  by  other  means. 

1.  There  must  he  a  clear  idea  concerning  the  image  to  he  defined. 
—  If,  for  example,  a  pupil  is  required  to  find  the  number  of  barrels 
of  water  in  the  rainfall  of  a  given  area,  he  should  know  beforehand 
how  this  result  is  to  contribute  to  the  nature-image  that  is  being 
developed.  The  life-conditions  of  a  given  area  are  largely  affected 
by  the  rainfall.  By  finding  the  quantity  the  student  determines 
exactly  the  value  of  that  particular  factor,  which  enables  him  to 
make  definite  comparisons  with  other  areas,  or  with  the  same  area 
in  different  months  or  years. 

2.  There  must  he  an  appropriate  selection  of  units  of  measure- 
ment.—  The  units  chosen  must  be  such  as  will  involve  the  pupils 
least  in  the  details  of  process,  and  which,  at  the  same  time,  will 
best  approximately  define  the  image. 

Pupils  in  the  early  grades  should  deal  with  quantities  of  large 
amount.  For  example,  the  amount  of  water  in  the  soil  found  by 
drying  out  one  cubic  inch  might  serve  the  purpose  with  an  adult, 
but  it  would  make  practically  no  impression  on  young  children; 
whereas  the  picture  might  be  made  very  interesting  if  in  the  latter 
case  a  bucketful  of  soil  were  used.  The  bucketful  would  be,  perhaps, 
as  much  as  the  pupil  could  lift,  and  might  weigh  ten  pounds.  It 
would  be  much  easier  to  get  numerical  results  that  would  be  intel- 
ligible if  pounds  were  used,  than  it  would  be  if  ounces  were 
employed.  So,  too,  yards  in  many  cases  would  mean  more  than 
feet  or  inches. 

3.  The  most  expeditious  methods  of  measurement  should  he 
adopted. —  Estimate,  then  measure.  Neglect  the  fractions  that  do 
not  stand  for  an  actual  image  in  the  pupil's  mind.  This  will  fix 
naturally   the   limits   of   the   decimal.      If   a   hundredth   of   a   pint 

65 


66  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

possesses  no  significance  to  the  pupil  in  his  image  of  the  quantity 
involved,  then  neglect  it.  Fractions  should  be  taught  along  with 
whole  numbers  when  they  assist  in  determining  an  actual  image — ■ 
not  otherwise,  any  more  than  a  useless  or  meaningless  word. 
Common  and  decimal  fractions  should  be  taught  from  the  begin- 
ning.   The  difference  is  merely  one  of  written  language. 

4.  There  must  he  careful  selection  of  the  processes  by  which  the 
comparisons  are  made. —  This  will  be  determined  by  the  pupil's 
ability  to  picture  and  use  the  different  standards  of  comparison. 
The  earliest  processes  will  be  addition  and  subtraction ;  then  frac- 
tions ;   later  ratio  and  percentage. 

5.  The  results  obtained  must  be  represented  objectively  until  they 
will  be  habitually  imaged. —  Thus,  if  it  is  found  that  a  cubic  foot 
of  soil  contains  three  gallons  of  water,  (a)  the  actual  size  of  the 
cubic  foot  must  be  shown  (by  a  model  or  otherwise),  and  {b)  the 
water  must  be  actually  measured  and  put  into  some  convenient 
receptacle.  In  the  same  way,  the  units  yard,  foot,  inch,  acre,  mile, 
square  mile,  etc.,  etc.,  must  be  actually  seen  until  they  become  a 
part  of  the  mental  equipment.  They  should  be  ready  for  immediate 
use,  just  as  the  color  green  or  red  is  always  ready  when  needed  in 
our  thinking.     Represent  proportions  by  diagrams  and  models. 

6.  Using  the  results  obtained  as  data,  a  great  fuiture-picture 
must  be  constructed. —  By  calculation,  the  real  magnitude  of  the 
world-operations  should  be  brought  out  with  all  possible  distinct- 
ness. For  example,  a  certain  series  of  rainstorms  that  crossed  the 
United  States  gave  an  average  depth  of  five  and  one-half  inches  of 
rainfall.  This  amounted  to  nearly  three  and  one-half  gallons  of 
water  per  square  foot  of  surface.  (The  result  should  be  shown 
objectively,  as  suggested  in  5.)  When  the  amount  of  water  is  cal- 
culated for  the  entire  area,  the  mind  is  staggered  at  the  quantity. 
It  would  fill  a  hole  having  a  cross-sectional  area  of  twenty  acres, 
about  two  thousand  miles  deep.  Athough  the  quantity  of  water  is 
so  enormous,  it  fell  as  rain  not  only  harmlessly,  but  in  such  a  way 
as  to  greatly  revive  and  refresh  the  earth.  There  is  no  other  means 
of  opening  up  these  world-pictures  to  the  pupil  except  through  the 
intelligent  use  of  numbers. 

It  is  useless  to  merely  enumerate  topics  in  nature-study  which 
require  number-work.  The  number-work  is  not  required  in  fact, 
unless  the  topics  themselves  are  fully  worked  out.     A  random  use 


NUMBER-  WORK  IN  NA  TURE-STUD  V  67 

of  number  with  nature-study  materials  is  as  bad  as  the  present 
sterile  array  of  problems  in  the  ordinary  text-book  in  arithmetic. 
There  will  never  be  any  such  thing  as  rational  mathematical  work 
until  it  is  confined  to  the  appropriate  part  it  plays  in  the  development 
of  an  image. 

One  of  the  chief  obstacles  to  intelligent  number-work  is  the 
deep-seated  feeling  in  the  minds  of  most  teachers  that  a  large 
amount  of  drill-work  is  necessary  in  order  to  fix  the  process.  That 
much  repetition  may  be  necessary  does  not  imply,  however,  that 
it  shall  take  the  nature  of  drill  on  empty  and  meaningless  forms. 
The  same  principles  apply  here  that  apply  to  reading.  It  would 
be  just  as  senseless  to  isolate  the  words  of  a  lesson  and  require  the 
pupil  to  learn  them  all  by  rote  before  learning  to  read,  as  it  is  to 
isolate  a  lot  of  facts  in  the  form  of  the  multiplication  table  or  the 
tables  of  compound  numbers  and  require  the  pupils  to  memorize 
them.  That  both  words  and  certain  results  in  arithmetic  must  be 
memorized  no  one  will  dispute,  but  there  is  no  reason  for  doing 
one  thing  with  words  in  reading  and  another  thing  with  number. 

The  tables  of  various  kinds  in  arithmetic  should  be  built  up  just 
as  a  vocabulary  is  formed.  When  a  word  is  used  by  the  pupil  in 
the  development  of  an  image,  the  teacher  usually,  as  she  should  do, 
makes  an  effort  to  fix  the  word  in  the  mind.  If  the  child  fully 
understands  its  function  in  the  development  of  his  image,  it  is 
comparatively  easy  to  do  this ;  otherwise  it  is  not  readily  done.  So 
in  number,  if  the  development  of  the  image  requires  that  the  pupil 
get  the  product  of  6  times  8,  when  the  result,  48,  is  obtained  the 
operation  should  be  fixed  in  the  same  way  that  the  word  is  memo- 
rized. In  fact,  this  part  of  the  work  is  nothing  but  a  language 
lesson,  and  it  should  be  treated  as  such.  If  from  day  to  day  these 
operations  are  all  gathered  up  and  tabulated  as  they  occur,  the 
tables  will  take  care  of  themselves. 

The  real  point  of  importance  that  is  involved  here  is  a  moral  one. 
No  one  has  yet  been  able  to  calculate  the  evil  done  to  the  pupil 
by  enforcing  the  current  drill  methods  in  arithmetic.  By  this  prac- 
tice it  habituates  the  pupils  to  dealing  with  forms  without  meaning 
—  to  blindly  doing  things  from  which  they  expect  no  intelligible 
result.  If  we  were  to  practice  the  same  methods  in  teaching  read- 
ing, if  we  were  to  "  drill "  the  pupils  upon  words  without  meaning 
for  year  after  year,  as  we  now  drill  them  year  after  year  upon 


68  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

processes  which  lead  to  senseless  or  meaningless  results  in  arith- 
metic, we  should  engender  the  same  indifference,  not  to  say  hatred, 
to  literature  that  now  exists  in  regard  to  mathematics.  Why  is  it 
that  when  pupils  leave  school  they  always  have  more  or  less  taste 
for  their  literary  studies  while  not  one  in  ten  thousand  even 
attempts  to  ''  keep  up "  his  mathematics  ?  Why  is  it  that  at  a 
certain  point  in  the  academic  course  students  have  sometimes  insti- 
tuted the  custom  of  publicly  burning  their  calculus?  Why  is  it 
they  have  never  thought  of  burning  their  Shakespeare,  or  Milton, 
or  Tennyson?  There  is  no  reasonable  answer  to  these  questions, 
except  that  in  the  one  case  the  study  of  literature  has  been  made 
to  contribute  something  to  their  lives  of  real  value  which  they  are 
able  to  appreciate,  while  in  the  other  case  they  have  got  nothing. 
Everybody  clings  to  that  which  really  helps  him  grow,  and  the  fact 
that  the  great  majority  of  pupils  who  leave  school  either  detest 
mathematics  or  are  in  a  state  of  helpless  despair  about  the  subject 
is  enough  to  make  the  philosophers  who  are  inundating  us  with 
volumes  on  the  psychology  and  pedagogy  of  the  subject  stop  to 
think.  They  have  surrounded  the  subject  with  so  much  mystery 
that  most  teachers  are  no  longer  even  curious  about  it,  and  they 
have  given  up  trying  to  penetrate  it.  There  is  no  more  mystery 
about  the  psychology  of  number  than  there  is  about  the  psychology 
of  reading  or  drawing  or  any  other  subject.  The  fact  is  that  there 
is  no  psychology  of  any  subject —  it  is  all  the  psychology  of  thinking. 
It  is  simply  a  question  of  finding  out  what  image  the  pupil  has  that 
is  worth  developing,  and  then  of  helping  him  to  the  use  of  tools, 
as  he  needs  them,  in  its  growth.  Mathematics  plays  a  distinct  part 
in  image-development  which  any  teacher  of  ordinary  sense  can 
recognize.  It  is  nothing  but  the  blindest  slavery  to  tradition  that 
keeps  the  pupils  from  a  rational  use  of  number.  It  is  due  to  the 
general  prevalence  of  the  antiquated  notion  that  in  these  early 
stages  of  education  it  is  necessary  to  isolate  in  a  meaningless  way 
the  process  side  of  the  subject  for  the  purpose  of  drill.  It  has 
been  shown  very  clearly,  both  in  theory  and  in  practice,  that  the 
pupil  does  not  get  by  this  method  that  mental  discipline  that  is 
supposed  to  come  with  the  study  of  mathematics.  It  is  evident 
that  this  must  be  so  because,  as  before  pointed  out,  the  drill  is 
necessarily  much  more  a  matter  of  language  than  of  number;  the 
drill   fails   even   as   a   linguistic   exercise   because   the   language   is 


NUMBER-WORK  IN  NATURE-STUDY  69 

meaningless.  With  the  discipHnary  idea  out  of  it,  the  ancient 
method  of  teaching  number  that  still  so  largely  prevails  has  not  a 
single  foot  left  upon  which  to  stand. 

The  lessons  given  here  are  submitted  as  illustrations  only. 
They  are  worthless  to  any  except  those  pupils  who  actually  made 
and  recorded  their  observations.  The  work  was  done  with  great 
deliberation  and  covered  many  weeks,  because  great  nature-images 
grow  slowly  with  children.  The  lessons  in  this  connection,  are  only 
intended  to  illustrate  what  has  been  said  as  to  the  function  of  num- 
ber in  defining  an  image. 

I.       THE    DISPERSAL    OF    SEEDS. 

An  attempt  is  made  to  form  some  idea  of  the  rate  at  which 
plants  might  multiply,  as  indicated  by  the  seed-production. 

1.  Near  the  schoolhouse  a  vacant  city  block  rather  thickly  cov- 
ered with  wild  verbenas  was  selected  for  study. 

2.  By  measurement  and  calculations  this  area  was  found  to 
contain  approximately  one-fourth  of  an  acre. 

3.  Areas  of  one  square  yard  each  were  measured  in  various 
places  and  the  average  number  of  plants  was  calculated. 

4.  An  average  of  thirty  plants  per  square  yard  gave  approxi- 
mately 36,000  to  the  quarter  acre. 

5.  Each  seed  pod  contained  four  seeds,  one  of  which,  on  the 
average,  it  was  found,  failed  to  mature.  The  number  of  pods  on 
a  spike  was  counted,  which,  when  multiplied  by  the  number  of 
spikes,  gave  2,300  seeds  as  the  average  number  produced  by  each 
plant.  Since  only  three-fourths  of  the  total  number  matured,  each 
plant  furnished,  therefore,  (approximately)  1,700  good  seeds  avail- 
able for  growth. 

6.  If  these  good  seeds  were  properly  distributed,  and  if  each  were 
to  produce  a  plant,  the  one-fourth  of  an  acre  the  second  season  could 
populate  425  acres  —  approximately  two-thirds  of  a  square  mile ; 
i.  e.,  equal  to  an  area  bounded  by  Cottage  Grove  Avenue  and  State 
street  on  the  east  and  west,  and  Sixty-third  and  Fifty-fifth  streets 
on  the  north  and  south. 

The  third  season,  under  the  same  suppositions,  enough  seeds 
would  be  furnished  to  populate  1,122  square  miles;  i.  e.,  more  than 
six  times  the  area  of  Chicago. 

The  fourth  season,  under  the  same  suppositions,  the  area  popu- 


70  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

lated  would  be  1,907,400  square  miles;  i.  e.,  equal  to  about  thirty- 
four  times  the  area  of  Illinois. 

The  fifth  year  the  number  of  seeds  would  be  sufficient  to  furnish 
plants  as  thickly  as  those  found  on  the  quarter  of  an  acre  for  an 
area  equal  to  sixteen  times  that  of  the  entire  earth. 

These  measurements  and  calculations  give  (a)  an  idea  of  the 
vitality  and  the  tremendous  push  and  rush  of  the  living  things ;  (h) 
since  there  is  no  such  increase,  as  an  actual  fact,  they  indicate  the 
degree  of  failure  on  the  part  of  the  plant  to  get  its  seeds  properly 
scattered  and  safely  planted,  and  also  the  enormous  resistance 
offered  by  other  plants  and  climatic  agencies  to  the  growth  and 
spread  of  the  verbena. 

II.       SEASONAL    CONDITIONS  :     WERE    THEY    FAVORABLE    OR 
UNFAVORABLE? 

1.  Rainfall. — One  inch  of  rainfall  furnishes  540  fifty-gallon 
barrels  of  water  per  acre,  or  135  barrels  for  the  quarter  acre.  Dur- 
ing the  month  of  May,  June,  July,  August,  and  September,  w^here 
the  verbenas  grew,  the  rainfall  due  the  plants,  according  to  the 
thirty-year  average  given  by  the  Weather  Bureau,  is  16.  i  inches, 
or  2,229  barrels.  The  actual  rainfall  for  three  months  in  1901 
was  13.9  inches,  or  1,874  barrels.  There  was,  therefore,  a  shortage 
of  2.6  inches,  or  351  barrels.  That  is,  from  this  cause  alone  the 
vitality  of  the  plants  was  reduced  by  about  16  per  cent.  This  may 
be  viewed  in  different  ways :  (a)  that  only  about  eight  plants  out 
of  ten  would  grow  this  season ;  or  (h)  that  eight  seeds  out  of  ten 
would  mature ;  or  (c)  that  the  general  vitality  was  lowered,  which 
would  be  felt  the  following  season. 

2.  Sunshine. —  The  Weather  Bureau  records  for  the  past  eight 
years  show  that  this  region  has  received  65  per  cent,  of  the  sun- 
shine possible  during  the  months  under  consideration.  In  the  year 
1 901  this  area  received  68  per  cent,  of  the  possible  sunshine.  It 
follows  therefore  that,  since  plants  are  most  active  in  sunshine, 
there  was  an  overstimulation  of  3  per  cent,  above  the  normal. 
Since,  also,  during  sunshine  plants  are  most  active  in  the  trans- 
piration of  water,  and  since  there  was  a  shortage  in  the  supply  of 
16  per  cent.,  it  follows  that  the  combination  of  these  two  causes 
operated  to  intensify  the  strain  upon  the  plant.     The  plant  endeavors 


NUMBER-  WORK  IN  NA  TURE-STUD  V  7 1 

to  resist  this  strain  by  reducing  the  leaf  surface  exposed  to  the 
sunshine. 

3.  Temperature. —  The  average  temperature  for  the  five  months 
for  thirty-one  years  is  66  degrees.  For  the  year  1901  the  average 
temperature  for  the  same  month  is  68  degrees.  There  was  actually, 
however,  an  excess  of  6  degrees  during  this  time,  as  shown  by  the 
Weather  Bureau  records.  This  condition  meant,  also,  not  only  a 
possible  increase  of  plant  activity;  it  meant  more  than  the  normal 
evaporation  from  the  soil  which  would  tend  to  cut  off  the  water 
supply  from  the  plant. 

4.  Variation  in  intensity  of  sunshine. —  On  the  twenty-first  day 
of  each  month  the  distribution  of  a  given  beam  of  sunshine  at  noon 
is  proportional  to  the  following  areas  :  May,  108 ;  June,  105  ;  July, 
107;  August,  115.  These  results  are  obtained  approximately  by 
the  use  of  the  skiameter.  The  intensity  of  the  sunshine  varies 
inversely  with  the  areas  of  distribution.  In  the  month  of  June, 
when  the  intensity  of  sunshine  is  greatest,  the  average  cloudiness 
is  32  per  cent.;  in  1901  the  average  cloudiness  was  31  per  cent. 
Therefore  the  withdrawal  of  the  friendly  cloud  shelter  by  the  amount 
of  I  per  cent,  in  the  month  when  the  intensity  was  greatest  served 
still  further  to  increase  the  stress  laid  upon  the  plant  in  the  year 
1901. 

These  causes  all  happened  to  combine  directly  in  this  particular 
year  to  menace  the  future  of  the  verbena.  They  also  operated  indi- 
rectly, so  far  as  they  favor  other  plants  that  know  how  to  get  along 
with  the  reduced  amount  of  moisture  and  the  increased  amount  of 
sunshine  and  heat. 

The  botany  of  the  verbena,  therefore,  for  this  particular  year, 
becomes  chiefly  a  study  of  the  various  devices  of  leaf,  stem,  and  root 
by  which  this  plant  is  able  to  maintain  itself  against  all  these  unfavor- 
able influences,  which  the  work  in  number  shows  to  be  actual  and 
definite  forces  of  enormous  power. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  point,  already  urged,  that  the  form  side 
of  the  subject  should  be  studied  as  the  image-growth  proceeds,  it 
will  be  found  by  an  examination  of  the  lessons  that  the  following 
processes  have  been  involved,  which  should  be  formulated  or  tabu- 
lated in  any  convenient  fashion  (and  learned)  as  the  study  proceeds : 

1.  Reading  and  writing  of  numbers  up  to  and  beyond  six  places. 

2.  All  the  fundamental  operations. 


72  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

3.  Fractions :     common  and  decimal ;    fundamental   operations. 

4.  Percentage:   all  the  processes  or  "cases." 

5.  Square  measure,  units :  acre,  square  rod,  square  yard,  square 
foot,  square  mile. 

6.  Linear  measure :    inch,  foot,  yard,  rod,  mile. 

7.  Volume:    pint,  quart,  gallon,  barrel. 

A  word  further  must  be  said  as  to  the  method  of  teaching 
these  forms  and  processes  in  connection  with  the  actual  image- 
development.  Most  teachers  are  so  overconscientious  about  the 
matter,  to  put  it  charitably,  that  when  a  pupil  fails  to  learn  the 
processes  at  once,  he  forthwith  drops  everything  else  and  proceeds 
to  belabor  him  so  that  ''he  will  never  have  to  learn  that  particular 
fact  again."  The  teacher  who  does  this  is  not  thinking  of  what  he  is 
doing.  He  is  merely  trying  with  his  eyes  shut  to  make  a  reputation 
for  being  ''  thorough."  Such  a  teacher  pays  no  attention  whatever 
to  the  way  in  which  we  naturally  learn  all  those  things  in  child- 
hood that  we  never,  never  forget.  A  child  never  learns  anything 
thoroughly  the  *'  first  time  ;  "  neither  does  an  adult.  But  he  comes 
back  to  it  again  and  again  as  he  needs  it;  its  function  becomes  all 
the  while  clearer  and  clearer,  and  finally  we  have  the  astonishing 
result  that  neither  the  worries  of  active  life,  nor  the  ravages  of 
disease  nor  length  of  years,  can  efface  the  picture  from  memory.  It 
is  probably  not  without  the  deepest  significance  that  teachers  would 
do  well  to  heed  that,  when  in  old  age  all  the  experiences  of  an  entire 
middle  life  fade,  there  remain  those  vivid  memories  of  childhood 
that  were  garnered  up  in  nature's  own  deliberate  way.  In  the 
delight  of  those  visions  of  a  long-ago  youth,  it  is  doubtful  if  the 
multiplication  table  or  the  division  of  fractions  ever  plays  an  impor- 
tant part.  The  pupil  should  not  be  belabored  into  mathematical 
processes  any  more  than  he  should  be  belabored  into  words  in  his 
reading.  In  the  latter  subject  the  principles  of  the  kindergarten 
are  beginning  to  be  appreciated ;  in  the  former,  the  methods  of  the 
penitentiary  still  prevail. 


CHAPTER  VL 

NATURE-STUDY  AND  MORALS. 

The  questions  which  relate  to  material  and  method  in  nature- 
study  are  beginning  to  be  treated  with  great  intelligence  and  skill. 
It  is  a  serious  mistake  to  suppose,  however,  that  when  all  such 
problems  are  solved  we  shall  find  the  subject  on  its  final  and  highest 
educational  footing.  The  teacher  until  now  has  been  concerned 
chiefly  with  matters  of  expediency  and  of  lesser  importance.  He 
has  but  barely  reached  the  point  where  a  discussion  of  the  funda- 
mental question  is  possible.  I  refer  to  its  place  in  the  training 
for  moral  character.  In  spite  of  the  tremendous  impetus  from 
the  practical  side  which  nature-study  has  received  within  the  past 
decade,  its  position  in  the  schools  is  still  tentative,  and  its  final 
mission  in  education  is  still  problematical.  It  might  be  said,  better, 
that  its  position  is  tentative  because  its  mission  is  problematical. 
In  these  days  there  is  a  decided  tendency  to  measure  the  value 
of  any  subject  by  the  direct  contribution  which  it  is  able  to  make 
to  the  development  of  character.  In  answer  to  this  question, 
"What  can  nature-study  do  to  make  the  pupil  more  upright, 
and  more  moral  generally?"  the  teachers  have  not  been  specific; 
they  have  been  hesitating,  equivocal,  indirect,  and  quite  unsatis- 
factory. As  compared  with  the  teachers  of  the  so-called  humani- 
ties, in  their  answer  to  this  great  question  which  is  the  final  one  in 
education,  the  teachers  of  nature-study  have  not  appeared  to  the 
best  advantage.  The  former  are  always  ready  to  point  out  that, 
since  the  materials  for  their  subjects  are  drawn  directly  from  the 
interrelations  of  men,  the  results  of  such  teaching  will  therefore 
bear  directly  upon  those  mutual  relations.  The  claim  is  commonly 
made  that  it  is  only  through  this  direct  study  of  human  relations 
that  moral  standards  become  known,  established,  and  enforced. 
There  is  scarcely  any  dealing  between  man  and  man  that  cannot 
be  seized  upon  by  the  shrewd  teacher  of  the  humanities  as  proper 
material  from  which  to  derive  a  legitimate  lesson  that  will  tend  to 
elevate  and  more  clearly  define  the  moral  status  of  the  human  being. 
But  when  the  teacher  of  nature-study  is  called  upon  to  show  an 

73 


74  THE  THIRD   YEARBOOK 

equivalent  value  in  the  studies  that  he  requires  his  pupils  to  make 
of  the  tree,  of  the  grasshopper,  of  the  snake,  of  the  crayfish,  or  of 
all  of  them  together,  he  is  not  so  ready  with  an  answer.  I  have 
frequently  made  some  interesting  tests  with  my  pupils  which  indi- 
cate that  this  indefiniteness  of  purpose,  or  possibly  a  lowered  pur- 
pose, in  teaching  has  its  effect  upon  them.  When  they  are  asked 
for  specific  instances  of  lessons  that  they  feel  have  made  distinct 
and  direct  contributions  to  their  character,  they  almost  invariably  cite 
examples  that  fall  within  the  humanities.  They  say  that  this  or 
that  lesson  has  made  them  distinctly  stronger.  It  has  made  them 
more  certain  of  themselves  in  times  of  temptation  than  they  other- 
wise likel}^  would  have  been ;  that  the  withdrawal  of  such  lessons 
from  their  fund  of  experience  would  be  to  them  a  real  and  specific 
loss.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  rare  to  find  any  student  who  has 
had  high-school  science  who  will  attach  anything  like  the  same 
value  to  the  lessons  he  has  had  upon  the  grasshopper,  the  earth- 
worm, the  beetle,  the  dandelion,  or  the  oak  tree.  They  are  generally 
ready  to  say,  still  further,  that,  so  far  as  they  can  see,  these  lessons 
might  be  blotted  out  from  their  experience  without  affecting  in  the 
least  their  status  as  moral  beings. 

I  certainly  have  no  desire  to  overstate  the  case,  but  I  am  -decid- 
edly of  the  opinion  that  we  have  here  the  real  reason  why  science 
has  such  a  tremendous  struggle  to  maintain  itself  in  the  curriculum. 
It  matters  not  how  ignorant  the  teacher  may  be,  he  generally  has, 
at  least,  vague  notions  that  it  is  his  chief  business  to  turn  out  people 
of  good  moral  character.  He  therefore  devotes  whatever  energy  and 
skill  he  may  possess  to  the  presentation  of  those  subjects  which,  as 
he  has  been  taught,  lead  to  that  end,  and  everything  else  is  left  to 
become  the  incident,  or  rather  the  accident,  of  the  curriculum. 

That  we  may  see  what  has  brought  this  state  of  things  to  pass, 
it  is  only  necessary  to  enumerate  briefly  the  stock  reasons  that  are 
usually  given  for  the  teaching  of  science.  In  the  pre-evolutionary 
period,  all  things  in  nature  were  considered  almost  entirely  as  having 
a  peculiar  relation  to  man.  They  were  classified  broadly  into  the 
useful  and  the  useless.  In  the  former  there  was  always  a  strong 
selfish  interest ;  toward  the  latter  there  were  feelings  of  indifference, 
if  not  positive  hostility. 

With  the  advent  of  Darwin's  Origin  of  Species,  a  new  interest 
was  aroused  that,  for  the  popular  mind,  was  derived  chiefly  from 


NA  TURE-STUD  V  AND  MORALS  7  5 

those  novelties  of  animal  and  plant  life  which  this  book  so  strikingly 
portrays.  It  is  quite  probable  that  most  teachers  even  today  depend 
more  upon  the  novelties  of  nature  as  a  means  of  interesting  their 
pupils  in  their  subject  than  upon  any  other  one  means. 

Still  further,  it  is  claimed  that  a  great  mission  of  science  is  to 
train  the  pupil  in  the  art  of  seeing  —  that  its  distinct  mission  is  to 
minister  to  the  senses.  That  the  work  in  science  came  into  promi- 
nence at  a  time  when  such  training  was  bitterly  needed  no  one  will 
deny,  and  neither  will  anyone  claim  that  its  value  in  sense-training 
has  been  overestimated. 

It  is  urged,  too,  that  the  constant  dealing  with  the  realities  of 
nature  tend  to  beget  an  accuracy  in  statement,  and  in  all  forms  of 
expression,  that  is  directly  conducive  to  a  high  moral  tone.  This 
reason  is  probably  the  corner-stone  upon  which,  so  far,  the  claims  of 
science  to  moral  training  have  chiefly  rested. 

The  reason  for  the  study  of  science,  however,  that  has  made  the 
strongest  appeal  is  probably  found  in  its  bearing  upon  the  practical 
and  economic  affairs  of  life.  Its  enormous  influence  for  good  in 
all  that  we  prize  in  material  affairs  is  apparent  to  the  dullest  mind. 
The  rapid  development  of  technical  schools  within  a  generation  is 
the  strongest  possible  evidence  as  to  a  sincere  belief  in  the  value 
of  a  scientific  education. 

Finally,  it  is  often  said  that  nature  is  the  embodiment  of  truth ; 
that  in  studying  science  we  are  dealing  with  the  eternal  verities, 
and  the  effect  of  this  must  necessarily  be  intrinsically  moral. 

It  is  interesting  to  inquire  whether  these  reasons  just  enumer- 
ated either  separately  or  taken  together  are  sufficient  to  give  science 
a  standing  in  the  curriculum  on  as  high  moral  grounds  as  that 
which  is  supposed  to  be  occupied  by  the  so-called  humanities. 
While  each  of  the  reasons  given  may  make  it  apparent  that  science 
is  a  valuable  and  even  necessary  study,  it  will  be  seen  that  they  may 
be  explained  as  mere  incidents  in  the  situation.  It  is  no  longer 
possible  to  present  nature  to  our  pupils  in  the  two  classes,  the  useful 
and  the  useless,  because  these  are  now  known  to  be  but  relative 
terms,  and  they  express  but  accidental  relations  rather  than  those 
belonging  to  a  great  design.  Thus  the  amiability  and  strength 
of  the  horse  are  the  accidents  of  creation  which  made  him  useful. 
These  characteristics  were  developed  under  influences  that  are  not 
wholly  understood,  and  it  has  happened  that  man  has  for  a  time 


76  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

availed  himself  of  the  advantages  offered  by  these  qualities.  But 
it  is  conceivable  that  the  development  of  the  automobile  and  its 
successors  may  seriously  disturb,  if  not  entirely  change,  the  rela- 
tionship that  has  heretofore  existed  between  man  and  the  horse. 
Similarly,  the  housefly  is  worse  than  useless ;  it  is  injurious  in  its 
habit  of  feeding,  which  makes  it  a  carrier  of  disease.  But  the 
ultimate  solution  of  this  difficulty  will  likely  be  through  the  dis- 
covery of  some  means  of  destroying  the  disease  germ  rather  than 
in  the  utter  destruction  of  all  the  flies.  If  the  germs  can  be  con- 
trolled, the  flies  will  become  harmless.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that 
the  study  of  man  and  the  other  forms  of  life  must  be  done  in  the 
light  of  some  other  relationship  of  a  more  fundamental  character. 
No  one  will  claim  that  the  study  of  nature  as  a  novelty  can  ever 
do  more  than  afford  entertainment  for  a  passing  hour.  Nor  is  the 
training  of  the  senses  an  ultimate  reason.  For,  as  it  has  been 
stated  already,  we  do  not  study  nature  so  much  because  we  wish 
to  train  the  senses  as  we  do  because  we  wish  the  senses  to  train 
the  man.  In  this  function,  other  things  not  usually  classed  as 
natural  objects  may  play  an  important  part. 

As  to  the  claims  for  a  training  in  accuracy  that  comes  with 
dealing  with  the  realities  of  nature,  it  may  be  said  that  in  this  the 
demands  of  science  are  not  unique.  Accuracy  is  required  in  all 
the  relations  of  life,  and  its  importance  is  far  more  evident  in  the 
dealings  between  man  and  man  than  it  is  in  the  enumeration  of 
the  legs  of  a  beetle.  If  the  claims  of  science  are  to  rest  upon 
practical  grounds,  then  what  is  to  be  said  of  the  study  of  the 
thousand  and  one  things  in  nature  that  interest  the  children,  and 
older  students  too,  which  cannot  by  any  stretch  of  the  imagination 
be  ranked  with  the  so-called  practical  aspects  of  our  lives?  And, 
lastly,  if  we  assert  that  nature  is  an  eternal  verity  worthy  in  itself 
of  study,  are  we  not  assuming  the  proposition  which  it  might  be 
conceived  to  be  the  business  of  science  to  prove? 

If  I  have  not  misstated  nor  overstated  the  case,  we  find  our- 
selves confronted  with  a  difficult  problem  in  education  toward  the 
solution  of  which  but  little  has  been  done.  It  is  evident,  too,  that 
until  some  common  ground  is  reached  upon  which  the  two  great 
divisions  of  learning,  the  humanities  and  science,  may  stand,  we 
shall  always  find  the  parts  of  our  curriculum  at  cross-purposes. 
If  we  are  to  unravel  the  difficulties  of  the  situation,  we  must  begin 


NA  TURE-STUD  V  AND  MORALS  7  7 

with  the  fundamental  point  from  which  the  humanities  and  science 
have  diverged.  Having  arrived  at  this,  we  may  be  able  to  deter- 
mine whether  the  divergence  is  necessary,  and  to  what  limits  it 
should  extend. 

In  the  first  place,  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  was  the  function 
of  all  education  in  early  times  to  teach  dogmas  which  were  usually 
sunmied  up  in  the  form  of  a  creed.  This  was  equally  true  of  both 
the  humanities  and  science.  "  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of 
God,  and  the  firmament  showeth  his  handiwork,"  expressed  the 
essence  of  a  creed  which  for  centuries  held  the  scientific  thought 
of  the  world  as  in  the  grip  of  a  vise.  In  its  relation  to  science 
this  creed  was  no  less  exacting  than  the  dogma  set  up  by  the 
humanities  in  regard  to  "the  chief  end  of  man."  Modern  science, 
however,  through  its  slow  development,  gradually  drew  away  from 
this  creed-bound  condition,  and  with  the  advent  of  Darwinism  it 
suddenly  broke  all  the  bonds  that  remained.  Then,  practically,  for 
almost  the  first  time,  men  began  to  investigate  nature  with  an  open 
mind.  They  began  to  hunt  for  the  facts  unbiased  by  prejudice  or 
by  traditions,  and  utterly  regardless  of  results.  The  world  has 
never  expressed  even  a  tithe  of  the  debt  which  it  owes  to  these 
bold  pioneers  in  true  scientific  thought  and  method.  With  almost 
reckless  abandon  they  turned  their  backs  upon  all  creeds  and  all 
philosophies  and  said :  ''  We  will  know  the  facts.  No  matter 
whether  they  teach  rightly  or  wrongly,  or  whether  they  teach  any- 
thing at  all,  we  will  have  the  facts."  This  independent  attitude  of 
mind  was  absolutely  necessary  that  solid  foundations  for  natural 
science  should  be  laid.  It  was  an  attitude  so  entirely  different 
from  what  had  ever  been  assumed  before  by  the  students  of  nature 
that  it  is  no  wonder  it  was  misunderstood.  Throughout  the  past, 
the  so-called  facts  of  science  had  been  marshaled  to  prove  the 
preconceived  notions  of  men;  not  only  their  notions  regarding 
their  relations  to  each  other,  but  also  to  those  regarding  the  mission 
and  destiny  of  things  in  general  and  of  man  in  particular.  It  is 
easy  to  understand  how  these  scientists,  divesting  themselves  of 
every  ulterior  purpose  in  the  investigation  of  the  facts  of  nature, 
should  give  rise  to  the  widespread  impression  that  they  believed, 
therefore,  that  the  facts  themselves  were  zvithout  moral  significance 
in  the  lives  of  men.  From  that  day  forth  science  has  seemed  like  a 
purposeless  study,  except  so  far  as  it  may  incidentally  minister  to 


78  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

our  material  wants.     It  is  no  wonder  that  the  apparent  indiffer- 
entism  of  science  should  seem  cold  and  heartless  in  contrast  with 
the  sympathies  of  philosophy  and  the  consolations  of  religion  which 
watched  every  step  of  man's  life  through  all  its  vicissitudes  from 
the  cradle  to  the  grave,  and  even  beyond.     Teachers  of  science  have 
been  trained  to  take  every  precaution  to  prevent  their  pupils  from 
bringing  to  their  studies  a  preconceived  notion.     But  we  should 
remember  that  the  preconceived  notion  is  dangerous  and  obstructive 
in  the  search  for  truth  only  when  it  assumes  the  obstinacy  of  a 
prejudice.     The  preconceived  notion  as   a  tentative  hypothesis   is 
absolutely  necessary  to  intelligent  scientific  research.     The  world 
for  centuries  was  so  anxious  to  identify  the  significance  of  the  facts 
of  nature  with  some  selfish  interest  in  human  life  that  accuracy  of 
observation  became  a  secondary  matter,  and  finally  observation  itself 
seemed  even  not  to  be  necessary.     As  a  reaction  against  this,  most 
teachers  of  science  have  gone  to  the  other  extreme  of  attaching 
no  importance  whatever  to  the  moral  significance  of  these   facts 
in  the  lives  of  the  pupils.     In  many  instances,  no  doubt,  the  pupils 
get  the  impression  that  there  is  no  moral  significance  to  be  looked 
for;   and  so  a  large  part  of  science-work  remains  vague  and  pur- 
poseless in  their  consciousness.     I  should  be  the  last  to  reimpose 
upon  science  the  task  of  supporting  dogmas  in  morals  or  religion. 
I  should  like  at  this  point,  however,  to  raise  the  question  distinctly 
as  to  whether  it  is  not  advisable  to  lay  more  emphasis,  relatively, 
upon  a  rational  interpretation  of  the  facts  of  nature  in  terms  of 
human  life  and  character.    It  seems  to  me  to  be  true  that  a  study  of 
the  moral  significance  of  the  facts  in  their  relation  to  human  life  is  as 
much  the  subject  for  scientific  research  as  the  facts  are  themselves. 
Indeed,  to  go  still  farther,  this  relationship  is  itself  a  part  of  the 
fact  that  is  studied,  and  no  more  to  be  parted  from  it  than  the 
color  is  to  be  separated  from  the  rose.     It  is  evident  that  these  facts 
either  have  a  significance  in  the  upbuilding  of  character,  or  they  have 
not.    If  they  have,  then  the  pupil  has  a  right  to  be  taught  what  it  is, 
or  at  least  how  to  search  for  it.     If  they  have  no  such  significance, 
then  it  is  difficult  to  see  why  they  should  be  studied  at  all.    Even  if 
the  study  of  science  is  pursued  only  for  the  sake  of  the  white  light  of 
truth  which  it  is  supposed  to  contain,  such  study  ever  must  find  its 
ultimate   justification  in  the  effect  it  has   upon  human   character, 
good  or  bad ;  and  the  pupil  should  be  so  taught  as  to  keep  this  end 
clearly  in  view. 


NA  TURE-STUD  Y  AND  MORALS  7  9 

In  the  endeavor  to  work  out  the  moral  bearings  of  science- 
teaching,  we  should  be  careful  not  to  employ  the  utterly  unscientific 
methods  of  those  who  teach  the  humanities.  If  there  is  anyone 
who  would  like  to  support  the  proposition  that  the  humanities  under- 
stand how  to  teach  morality,  I  should  like  to  have  him  explain  why 
it  is,  after  centuries  of  effort  in  which  they  have  had  it  all  their 
own  way,  it  happens  that  we  have  so  much  corruption,  vice,  and 
dishonesty  m  public,  in  social,  and  in  private  life.  And,  in  these 
latter  days,  if  there  are  any  signs  of  quickening  of  the  human 
conscience,  may  it  not  be  true  that  it  is  in  part  due  to  the  enlighten- 
ing moral  influence  of  scientific  knowledge?  I  believe  that  morals 
in  the  past  have  been  badly  taught,  because  the  lessons  have  been 
enforced  either  through  a  warning  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come 
or  through  an  exhortation  to  imitate  some  illustrious  example. 
The  moral  forius  may  be  established  through  fear  or  through  imita- 
tion, but  morality  itself  is  a  deeper  matter.  The  fact  that  somebody 
else  is  scared  into  certain  forms  of  action,  called  moral,  by  the  idea 
of  future  punishment  is  no  good  reason  why  I,  too,  should  be 
scared  into  the  same  forms.  Neither  is  there  in  the  simple  fact 
that  George  Washington  would  not  prevaricate  any  real  reason  why 
I  should  not  lie  like  a  pirate  if  I  wish  to  do  so.  I  believe  that 
the  exceedingly  shallow  and  primitive  methods  mostly  employed 
in  teaching  morals  belong  as  far  back  at  least  as  the  age  of  the 
stone  hatchet. 

It  is  now  the  privilege  of  science  to  place  the  teaching  of  morals 
upon  as  solid  ground  as  that  upon  which  science  itself  rests.  It 
appears  to  me  that  moral  relations  among  men  represent  or  express 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  highest  known  adaptations  among 
living  creatures.  The  final  lesson  of  science,  its  very  last  words, 
are  concession  and  adaptation.  In  the  whole  gamut  of  life,  whether 
we  study  the  microscopic  motes  that  throng  the  waters,  or  the 
awkward  crab  that  fiddles  his  way  over  the  sands  of  the  beach,  or 
the  insect  buzzing  in  the  grass,  or  the  grass  itself,  or  the  trees,  or 
the  birds  in  the  branches,  or  the  tender  heart  that  proffers  the  cup 
of  cold  water  to  the  thirsty  wayfarer,  or  the  glorified  soul  that  at 
once  sacrifices  and  saves  itself  for  the  weak  and  unfortunate  —  it 
is  still  a  question  of  concession  and  adaptation.  To  recognize  and 
abide  by  this  fact  means  development  and  life  —  physical,  mental, 
and  moral ;  failure  to  do  so  means  degradation  and  death  —  annihila- 


8o  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

tion.  This  lesson  is  taught  as  plainly  and  forcefully  by  the  grass- 
hopper, the  mosquito,  and  the  roadside  weed  as  by  the  life  of  man. 
This  is  the  ground  of  the  new  morality,  which,  supported  by  modern 
science,  will  furnish  the  ethical  code  for  the  twentieth  century. 

The  supreme  test  for  tlie  value  of  nature-study  is  now  at  hand. 
For  years  teachers  all  over  this  country  have  bravely  struggled  to 
get  the  children  in  touch  with  nature.  Books  have  been  written 
by  the  score  suggesting  endless  ways  by  which  this  may  be  done, 
and  detailing  devices  to  make  the  study  interesting  and  pleasant ; 
and  substantial  ground  has  been  gained.  During  this  time  many 
burdens  have  been  lifted  from  the  pupils,  and  the  teacher's  work 
has  been  greatly  improved.  But  the  period  of  diversion  is  approach- 
ing an  end.  Not  that  the  study  of  nature  is  to  be  less  pleasant  and 
interesting,  but  its  purpose  is  to  be  more  serious,  more  definite,  more 
manifest. 

The  task  now  set  for  the  friends  of  nature-study  is  great.  It  is 
not  without  deep-seated  result  that  for  centuries  mankind  has  been 
taught  that  the  world  and  the  flesh  have  been  the  joint  partners  of 
the  evil  one.  That  nature-study  can  be  a  positive  stimulus  to  the 
moral  nature  of  man  is  a  proposition  resisted  by  the  prejudices  deep- 
rooted  in  the  ignorance  and  bigotry  of  two  thousand  years.  From 
the  standpoint  of  moral  development,  man  at  first  feared  nature  as 
something  that  was  bent  upon  his  eternal  ruin ;  then  he  despised 
nature  as  a  stifling  incubus  upon  his  spiritual  life.  Today  he 
regards  nature  as  neutral  and  her  teachings  as  irrelevant.  This 
false  view  has  given  rise  to  an  equally  false  and  utterly  misleading 
classification  of  studies  in  our  curriculum,  namely,  the  humanistic 
and  scientific.  We  may  study  man  and  the  tree;  but  we  must  study 
man.  This  partial  view  must  always  give  undue  precedence  to  the 
so-called  humanistic,  to  the  corresponding  detriment  of  the  so-called 
scientific;  whereas  in  the  not  distant  future  we  shall  find  through 
the  study  of  nature  a  proper  evaluation  of  the  so-called  humanistic 
studies.  It  will  be  according  to  new  standards  of  morality  set  up 
by  a  study  of  nature,  that  the  true  worth  of  all  studies  will  be 
determined.  When  this  is  done,  all  studies  will  be  humanistic.  As 
long  as  the  ancient,  but  now  almost  obsolete,  dualistic  conception 
of  man's  nature  prevailed ;  as  long  as  man  the  spiritual  being  was 
set  over  against  man  the  carnal  being,  so  long  has  the  house  been 
divided  against  itself.     But  through  the  study  of  nature  —  of  life, 


NA  TURE-STUD  V  AND  MORALS  8 1 

in  the  last  analysis,  human  life,  and  its  conditions  —  from  that 
tiny  speck,  that,  somehow,  came  into  being  in  some  sequestered 
spot,  in  a  mysterious  way,  countless  ages  ago,  down  to  the  magnifi- 
cent functions  of  a  great  brain  that  in  its  sympathy  embraces  the 
world,  we  are  slowly  getting  rid  of  our  primitive  conception  of  a 
divided  man.  When  at  last  our  study  shall  no  longer  be  man  and 
nature,  but  man  in  nature,  then  for  the  first  time  shall  we  be  able 
properly  to  marshal  its  facts  as  the  natural  means  of  developing  the 
highest  moral  life. 


APPENDIX   A. 
A  RECORD  IN  NATURE-STUDY. 

EXPLANATION  OF  FIG.   7. 

The  three  charts  above  the  landscapes  record  graphically  the  observations 
of  certain  meteorological  phenomena  for  April,  May,  and  June.  The  narrow- 
vertical  strips  are  eighteen  inches  long  and  represent  (arbitrarily)  the  day  of 
twenty-four  hours.  Upon  the  lower  part  of  the  strips  (blue  on  the  chart)  is 
measured  off  the  correct  proportion  to  represent  the  length  of  night.  What 
remains  above  (yellow  on  the  chart)  represents  the  daylight.  Upon  the  latter 
the  cloudy  days  and  the  rainy  days  are  represented  respectively  by  the  lighter 
and  darker  shades  of  gray.  The  straight  horizontal  line  represents  the  freezing- 
point.  Above  and  below  this,  at  either  end,  the  edge  of  the  card  is  graduated 
as  a  thermometer.  The  upper  zigzag  line  shows  the  curve  of  mean  tempera- 
ture, and  the  lower  one  shows  the  barometric  curve,  the  card  at  one  side  being 
scaled  as  a  barometer. 

Between  the  two  lines,  arrows  are  placed  which  indicate  the  direction  of 
the  wind.  Various  relationships  are  easily  worked  out.  The  wind  that 
oftenest  accompanies  clouds,  rain,  or  sunshine;  the  combination  of  events 
that  accompanies  the  low  or  the  high  temperatures;  the  rise  and  fall  of  the 
barometer,  and  the  rise  and  fall  of  temperature ;  the  relation  of  both  these 
curves  to  cloudiness  and  rainfall ;  the  gradual  change  in  the  length  of  day  and 
night,  absolute  and  relative;  the  bearing  of  all  combined  upon  the  landscape 
pictured  below  —  these  and  many  other  comparisons  may  be  made  at  a  glance, 
and  all  reveal  the  close  interdependence  of  the  phenomena  of  nature. 

Above  these  charts,  by  means  of  the  skiameter,  the  relative  distribution  of 
sunshine  for  the  latitude  of  Chicago  is  shown  for  each  month.  Since  the 
intensity  varies  with  the  distribution,  and  the  ratio  of  the  April  rectangle  is 
to  that  of  June  as  15  to  12,  it  follows  that  the  intensity  of  the  latter  month  is 
one  and  a  fourth  times  the  intensity  of  the  former.  In  other  words,  the  sun- 
shine that  does  duty  on  a  fifteen-acre  field  in  April  will  cover  only  about 
twelve  acres  in  June. 

At  the  left  of  the  chart,  three  drawings  show  the  slant  of  the  sun's  rays 
for  each  of  the  three  months,  and  also  the  area  that  each  beam  covers. 

The  Mason  jars  below  the  landscape  illustrate  graphically  the  rainfall. 
Each  jar  contains  the  quantity  of  water  that  fell  in  a  month  on  an  area  of 
twenty-four  square  inches,  January  being  on  the  left.  The  upper  row  shows 
the  average  for  each  month  during  a  period  of  thirty  years.  The  lower  row 
shows  the  rainfall  by  months  for  the  year  1901.     The  upper  row  shows  what 

82 


Fig.  7. —  A  Record  in  Nature-Study, 


A  RE  CORD  IN  NA  TU RE-STUD  Y  83 

nature  promises;  the  lower  one  shows  how  she  performs  —  at  least  how  she 
did  in  1901.  During  the  growing  season,  the  months  are  marked  by  important 
events  —  as,  for  example,  germination  of  seeds,  opening  of  buds,  flowering, 
insect-development,  ripening  of  fruit.  The  variation  in  the  rainfall  from  the 
average,  as  told  by  the  jars,  shows  how  the  plant  and  animal  world,  ourselves 
included,  is  subjected  to  great  strains.  It  gives  a  striking  meaning  to  the 
phrase  "  struggle  for  existence." 

In  the  upper  right-hand  corner  the  story  of  the  seedlings  for  these  months 
is  told  by  some  plants  selected  from  the  garden.  At  the  upper  side  a  series  of 
paintings  shows  the  chapters  of  the  dandelion's  history,  which  represents  a 
large  number  of  plants  that  spring  from  roots  which  have  survived  the  winter. 
At  the  bottom,  the  unfolding  of  the  buds,  the  story  of  how  the  plant  makes 
friends  with  the  sunshine  during  these  months,  is  told  in  a  similar  way.  On 
the  right,  a  few  of  the  birds  and  the  opossum  give  something  of  complete- 
ness to  the  season's  pictures. 

Associated  with  the  observ^ations  of  the  development  of  plant  life  are 
records  of  the  temperature,  not  only  of  the  air,  but  also  of  the  soil  at  differ- 
ent depths  and  of  the  water  in  the  ponds.  By  these  means  the  really  complex 
nature  of  the  environment  of  the  living  thing  comes  to  be  better  understood, 
and  the  sensitiveness  and  plastic  character  of  the  organism  grow  to  be  more 
thoroughly  appreciated. 


APPENDIX   B. 
COURSE  OF  STUDY. 

It  is  practically  impossible  to  prepare  in  detail  a  schedule  of  work  in 
nature-study  that  will  have  much  value  beyond  that  of  suggestion.  The 
aspects  of  nature  vary  greatly,  and  the  subject-matter  selected  for  the  curricu- 
lum must  vary  in  a  way  that  corresponds. 

The  following  outlines,  selected  from  a  year's  work  given  in  the  author's 
Nature  Study  and  Related  Subjects,  are  submitted  with  a  view  to  indicating 
certain  typical  selections  of  subject-matter  based  largely  upon  seasonal  con- 
ditions, and  also  the  relations  of  other  subjects  to  nature-study.  It  must  be 
understood  that  this  is  not  an  attempt  to  make  nature-study  the  organizing 
center  of  the  curriculum ;  it  merely  tries  to  show  some  of  the  things  which 
the  pupil  will  be  interested  in,  most  likely,  and  it  offers  suggestions  as  to  how 
some  other  subjects  may  be  used  to  assist  in  the  development  of  the  nature- 
picture.  Three  months,  September,  January,  and  June,  representing  the 
extremes  of  seasonal  conditions  are  presented.  These  charts  and  the  remain- 
ing ones  for  the  year  are  described  in  detail  in  the  author's  book  above  noted. 

References  for  September. — (Numbers  correspond  to  those  found  in  the 
charts,  Appendix  B.)  (i)  Population  of  an  Old  Pear  Tree  (Macmillan)  ;  (2) 
Readings  in  Nature's  Story  Book  (American  Book  Co.)  ;  (3)  Living  Creatures  of 
Land,  Water,  and  Air  (American  Book  Co.)  ;  (4)  Flyers,  Creepers  and  Swim- 
mers (American  Book  Co.)  ;  (5)  This  Continent  of  Ours,  King ;  (6)  Entertain- 
ments in  Chemistry  (Interstate  Publishing  Co.)  ;  (7)  World  of  Matter  (D.  C. 
Heath  &  Co.)  ;    (8)  Normal  Course  in  Reading  (Silver,  Burdett  &  Co.). 

References  for  January. — (i)  Seaside  and  Wayside,  No.  4  (Heath  &  Co.)  ; 
;(2)  Seaside  and  Wayside,  No.  3  ;  (3)  Readings  in  Nature's  Story  Book  (American 
Book  Co.)  ;  (4)  Normal  Course  in  Reading;  (5)  Hooker's  Child's  Book  of  Nature 
(American  Book  Co.)  ;  (6)  Story  of  our  Continent  (Ginn  &  Co.)  ;  (7)  Storyland 
of  the  Stars,  Pratt;  (8)  Stories  Mother  Nature  Told  Her  Children  (Lee  & 
Shepard)  ;  (9)  First  Book  in  Geology  (Heath  &  Co.)  ;  (10)  Monteith's  Science 
Readers;  (11)  King's  Geographical  Reader,  No.  2  (Lee  &  Shepard);  (12)  Com- 
mon Minerals  and  Rocks  (Heath  &  Co.)  ;  (13)  Leaves  and  Flowers  (American 
Book  Co.);  (14)  Fairyland  of  Science  (Appleton)  ;  (15)  Heart  of  Oak,  Book  I 
(Heath  &  Co.)  ;  (16)  Heroes  of  Science;  Botany,  Geology,  Zoology  (E.  &  J.  B. 
Young  &  Co.,  New  York);  (17)  Normal  Course  in  Reading;  (18)  Pioneers  of 
Science,  Lodge.  On  Foods:  Human  Body,  Martin  (Holt  &  Co.);  Chemistry  of 
Cooking  and  Cleaning,  Richards  (Estes  &  Lauriat). 


84 


COURSE  OF  STUDY 

SEPTEMBER. 
THOUGHT  WORK. 


85 


g 
0 

Zoology 

Botany 

Geography 

Physics 

Chemistry 

Insects.    List  of 

Relation  of  the 

Distribution  of 

The  spectrum. 

Chemical 

u 

„ 

birds  in  the  neigh- 

flower to  the 

fruits. 

Use  of  the 

change  illus- 

CO 

•3 

rt 

borhood. 

fruit.    Insect 

prism.     Use 

trated  in  find- 

m 

I 

depredations 
on  plants. 

of  compass. 

ing  the  ash  in 
fruits.     Chem- 
ical properties 
of  the  ash. 

fc 

H 

The  adaptations  of 

The  transforma- 

Fruits as 

Relation  of 

The  composite 
nature  of 

animal  life  through 

tion  of  parts  of 

affected  by 

color  to  light. 

6 

form  and  color. 

the  plant  for 

climate. 

Direction. 

fruits. 

special  func- 

tions. 

Insects  of  all  kinds; 

Seeds  and  all 

Pictures  show- 

Leaves and 

The  apple, 
peach,  plum. 

especially  butter- 

kinds of  fruits. 

ing  fruit  trees 

fruits  showing 

2 

flies.  Materials  for 

Leaves  and 

of  various 

different 

pear,  quince. 

2 

an  aquarium,  tad- 

flowers.   Nuts. 

kinds,  and  the 

colors. 

melon,  squash. 

^ 

poles,  fishes,  craw- 

manner of  cul- 

egg-plant. 

g 

fishes,  and  turtles. 

tivation.    Also 

the  various 

a 

nut-bearing 
trees.   Fruits 
and  nuts. 

</> 

Drying  boards  for  in- 

Boxes  for  pre- 

Sandpans for 

Prism,  mirrors, 

Scales,  Drying 

H 

sects.     Insect  nets. 

servation  of 

modeling. 

and  lenses. 

trays.    Batter- 

< 

Cyanide  bottles. 

seeds. 

Clay  for   mod- 

sea dishes  or 

t 

Insect  trays.     Jars 
for  aquana.     Col- 

eling. 

porcelain 

o, 

crucibles. 

< 

lecting  boxes. 

Flight  and  other 

Colors  of  flow- 

Influences of  po- 

Colors appear- 

The decay  of 
fruits.    The 

modes  of  locomo- 

ers as  related 

sition  as  seen 

ing  in  fruits, 

"rt 

tion  of  insects. 

to  the  visiting 

in  ripening 

flowers,  leaves, 

amount  of  ash 

S 

Compare  with 

insects.  Colors 

fruits.    Ripen- 

and animals 

left  after  burn- 

a 

birds.  Food  and 

of  fruit — un- 

ing of  same 

compared  with 

ing  wood  and 

0 

feeding  of  animals. 

ripe  and  ripe. 

fruits  in  differ- 

spectrum. 

coal. 

2 

Colors  as  related 

ent  parts  of  the 

h 

to  plants. 

country. 

< 

*. 

Organs  of  insects 

Parts  of  a  fruit. 

Location  of 

Study  of  condi- 

Weigh and  dry 

(D 

for  feeding  and  lo- 

The modifica- 

fruit belts. 

tions  under 

definite  am'nts 

n 

S 

comotion.      Struc- 

tions of  the 

Study  of  the 

which  the  spec- 

of fruits.   Bum 

0 

■5 

ture  of  wings  in 

leaf.     Work  of 

geographical 

trum  is  formed. 

definite  w'ghts 

cx 

different    insects — 

insects  upon 

origin  of  culti- 

Recomposition 

of  fruits.      Ob- 

f=:i 

butterfly,  beetle. 

the  leaf  and 

vated  fruits. 

of  spectrum  by 

tain  amount  of 

is 

grasshopper,  fly. 

fruit. 

means  of  con- 

water, dry  solid 

'0 

bee. 

cave  mirrors 

and  ash  in 

^ 

and  convex 

each. 

O) 

lens. 

A  Tragedy  in  the 

Fruit  and 

Some  industries 

"  Sunbeams  and 

The  Chemistry 

Grass.*   (i)    Mira- 

Grain Destroy- 

of Canada.  (5) 

Their  Work." 

of  Yeast.      (6) 

0 
0 

< 

cles  of  the  Butter- 

ers.   (4)    How 

The  People  of 

— Fairyland  of 

A  Lesson  in 

fly.     (2)    Muscular 

Plants  Employ 

Mexico.     (5) 

Science. 

Chemistry.  (7) 

Strength  of  Insects. 

Insects  to 

From  St.  Louis 

(Buckley.) 

(2)    Butterflies 

do  their 

to  St.  Paul.  (5) 

and  Moths.     (3) 

Work.     (2) 

The  Fruit.   (2) 

Grasshopper  and 

Field  Flowers. 

The  Mountain 

"  Light," 

Apples   in   the 
Cellar.— //o/- 

M 

Cricket. — Leigh 

-Campbell. 

Monarch. — 

Echoes  of  Half 

>.  rt 

Hunt. 

To  Daisy  Ele- 

Palmer. 

a  Century.— 

land. 

§  ^ 

The  Humble  Bee, 

ga.ViS.— Pal 

The  Apple.— 

Palmer, 

§  ^ 

— EfMerson. 

iner. 

Btirroughs. 

The  Katydid.— 

To  the  Fringed 

Hohnes. 

Gentian. — 

►J 

Bryant, 

It  seems  as  if  th 

at  day  was  not  wholly  profane,  in  which  we  have  given  heed  to  some 

tn 

natural  object.     Th 

s  fall  of  snowflakes  in  a  still  air  preserving  to  each  crystal  its  perfect 

tn  y 

form;  the  blowing 

of  sleet  over  a  wide  sheet  of  water,  and  over  plains,  the  waving  rye- 

:<  S 

field,  the  mimic  wav 

ing  of  acres  of  houstonia  whose  innumerable  florets  whiten  and  ripple 

S  a 

before  the  eye  ;  the 

reflections  of  trees  and  flowers  in  glassy  lakes;  the  musical  steaming 

^1 

odorous  southwind  v 

/hich  converts  all  trees  into  wind  harps;  the  crackling  and  spurting  of 

hemlock  in  the  flat 

nes;  or  of  pine  logs  which  yield  glory  to  the  walls  and  faces  in  the 

sitting  room  —  these 

are  the  music  and  pictures  of  the  most  ancient  religion. — Emerson, 

Essay  011  Nature. 

♦Numbers  refer  to  lists  of  books  given  on  page  84,  Appendix  B. 


86 


THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 


SEPTEMBER. 
THOUGHT  yNO'^Y..— Continued. 


H 

o 

"(3 

Meteorology 

Astronomy 

Geology 

Mineralogy 

Daily  record  of  observa- 

The equinox.    Slant 

General  aspects  of 

Mechanical  constit- 

M3 

1 

tions  on  the  weather. 

of  the  sun's  rays. 

the  surrounding 
country. 

uents  of  soil. 

H 

Relation  of  the  weather 

Relation  of  the 

The  forces  that  have 

The  means  by  which 

0. 

to    the    appearance    of 

changing  slant  of 

determined  the 

rock  and  vegetable 

the  landscape. 

the  sun's  rays  to 

present  appearance 

products  become 

meteorological  con- 

of the  country. 

mixed. 

U 

ditions. 

(A 

The  maps  of  the  Weathef; 

Various  rocks  and 

Samples  of  soil  and 

u 

Bureau. 

stones  associated 

subsoil. 

with  different  kinds 

u 

6 

of  soils. 

(A 

D 

Thermometer. 

Shadow-stick. 

Boxes  for  speci- 

Sieve i-io  inch 

< 

It; 

< 

Barometer. 

mens. 

mesh.     Sieve   1-50 

Hj^grometer. 

inch  mesh.  Scales. 

Bl. 

< 

Wind  vane 

Effect  of  temperature 

Position  of  sun  on 

Slope  of  land. 

Soil  associated  with 

and  moisture  upon 

meridian  and  on 

Direction  of 

best  plant  growth. 

2 

ripening   and    coloring 

the  horizon. 

streams.     Kinds  of 

Animal  life  in  the 

of  fruits  and  leaves. 

Eclipse  of 

rock  exposed. 

soil. 

g 

moon. 

z 

O 

Venus  evening 

o 

star.     Jupiter 

% 

morning  star. 

(A 

o 

Find  amount  of  rainfall ; 

Find   areas  covered 

Test  the  hardness 

Find  coarse  and  fine 

-^g 

relative  humidity;    ab- 

by given  volume  of 

and  solubility  of 

gravel  and  sand 

•nE 

solute  amount  of 

sunlight    at  differ- 

the country  rock. 

and  amount  of  clay 

St 

moisture  in  atmos- 

ent times  of  the 

and  loam  in  sam- 

c^g- 

phere.     Kinds  of 

month.  Find  angle 

ples  of  soil. 

u 

clouds. 

of  sun's  rays. 

Clouds.     (8)     The  Air- 

A  Morning  in 

Origin  of  Valleys 

"  Relation  of  Geol- 

Breathers.     (9)— 

Moonland.     (10) 

and  Lakes,      (13) 

ogy  to  Agriculture. 

1 

Kingsley. 

King  Sol.      (10)— 

-Shaler. 

Its  Relation  to 

o 

Amy  Johnson's 

Health,"  Applied 

<: 

Sunshine.     (11) 

Geology,— 

Looking  for  the 

Williams. 

Sun.  (12)— Z>r. 

Soils.-5Aa/*rr. 

/.  /.  Hayes. 

Hymn  to  the  Clouds.— 

Autumn  Tides. — 

Glaciers  of  the 

On  the  Cliff.- 

Palmer. 

Burroughs. 

Alps.     Formation 

Rossiter  Johnson, 

The  Tempest.— 

The  Wind   and   the 

of  Glaciers.   Move- 

Dickens. 

yioon..— Mac  Don  - 

ment  of  Glaciers. 

aid. 

««  ^ 

Whatsoever  is  beauti 

ful  is  for  the  same  reason  good,  when  suite 

d  to  the  purpose  for 

li 

which  it  was  iHtended. 

Whatsoever  is  suited  for  the  end  intended 

,  with  respect  to  that 

end  is  good  and  fair ;  an 

d  contrariwise  it  must  be  deemed  evil  an 

d  deformed  when   it 

departs  from  the  purpose 

which  it  was  designed  to  promote. — SocRAi 

ES. 

COURSE  OF  STUDY 

SEPTEMBER. 
FORM    WORK. 


Geometric  form  of 
thawing;    propor- 
tions of  parts. 
Meaning  of  the 
form  and  propor- 
tions.     Form  and 
proportions  of  the 
bodies  of  insects. 


Zoology 


Prevailing  colors  of 
insects.  Relation 
of  insect  coloration 
to  colors  of  flowers 
and  plants  in  gen- 
eral. Varieties  of 
insects. 


Botany 


Geometric 
forms  and  pro- 
portions in  va- 
rious fruits  and 
leaves.     The 
meaning  of 
these  forms  and 
proportions. 


Proportion  of 
leaves  on  dif- 
ferent kinds  of 
trees  partly 
eaten  by  in- 
sects.    Fruits 
injured  by  in- 
sects.   Propor- 
tion of  water 
and  dry  solids 
in  different 
kinds  of  fruits. 


Geography 


Relief  forms  in 
continental 
areas. 


Physics 


The  form  of  the 
prism.     Size 
of  its  angles. 
Forms  of  mir- 
rors used. 


Relative  value 
of  the  various 
fruits  produced 
in   the   United 
States.     Rela- 
tive production 
in  different 
fruit  regions. 
Fall  crop 
regions. 


Primary  colors. 
Colors  found 
in  fruits.     In 
the  landscape. 


Chemistry 


Proportions  of 
ash  in  fruits. 
Ratio  of  ash  to 
dry  solid ;  to 
the  v.-ater. 


Forms  of  the  bodies 
of  animals  studied. 
Drying  board  for 
insects. 


Fruits  and 
leaves  studied. 
Trays  for  dry- 
ing fruits. 


Maps  showing 
fruit  areas. 


Make  a  prism 
and  mount  it. 
Make   a  mag- 
netic needle. 


Show  structure  of 
insect  as  a  whole 
and  in  its  parts: 
e.  g.^  wing,  foot, 
leg,  mouth. 


Fruits  and 
leaves.    Fruits 
in  various  sec- 
tions to  show 
structure. 


Maps  showing 
distribution  of 
fruits  and 
grains. 


Drawing  of  rajrs 
of  light  in  their 
course  through 
the  prism. 


Drawing  of 
apparatus. 


Animals  conspic- 
uous by  color. 
Show  adaptation  of 
color. 


Flowers,  fruits 
and  leaves. 
Landscape 
effects  prod'c'd 
by  plants. 


Landscape 
colors. 


The  spectrum. 


How  animals  hide 
themselves.      How 
animals  move — 
walking,  flying. 
How  insect  flight 
differs  from  that  of 
birds. 


How  different 
fruits  are 
formed.     How 
insects  use 
leaves  and 
stems. 


Preparation  and 
shipment  of 
fruits  to  mar- 
ket.    Prepara- 
tion of  fruits 
for  food. 


The  combina- 
tions of  colors 
in  a  September 
landscape. 


How  to  find  the 
ash  in  fruits. 


Study  of  the  language  forms  necessary  in  all  written  and  oral  expression  which  occurs 
in  the  study  of  all  subjects.  Choice  of  words;  spelling;  capitals;  pronunciation;  punc- 
tuation; sentence;  subject  and  predicate;  paragraph;  figures  of  speech.  Function  of 
words  —  parts  of  speech.     Relations  of  words. 


'Hunting  Glee," 
National  Music 
Reader  No.  4. 


Birds  Through  an 
Opera  Glass. — 
Meriam. 

Home  Studies  in 
Nature.— Tr^tf^. 

Fairyland  of 
Science,  chap. 
ix. — Buckley, 

Darwinism. —  Wal- 
lace. 

HumboH  Lib. 


'The  Hunter 
and  the  Wild 
Rose,"  Na- 
tional Music 
Reader  No.  4. 


How  to  Know 

the  Wildflow- 

ers. — Dana. 
Flowers,  Fruits, 

and   Leaves. — 

Lubbock. 
Introduction  to 

Botany. — 

Spalding, 
Recreations  in 

Botany. — 

Creevy. 
Fairyland  of 

Science. — 

Buckley, 

chap.  vii. 


'  The  Field  and 
the  Wood," 
National 
Music 
Reader  No.  4. 


Handbook  of 
Commercial 
Geography. — 
C  his  holm. 

Java,  the  Pearl 
of  the  East. — 
Higginson. 


'  Autumn," 
National 
Music 
Reader  No.  4. 


Six  Lectures  on 
Light.— 7>«- 
dall. 


'The  Sad 
Leaves  are 
Dying,"  Public 
School  Music 
Course  No.  5. 


"  Decay  in  the 
Apple  Barrel," 
Popular 
Science 

Monthly,  May, 
1903. 

Remsen''s  Chem- 
istry. Cookers 
Laboratory 
Practice.  First 
Book  on  Chem- 
istry.— Shaiv- 
Brewster. 


88 


THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 


SEPTEMBER. 
FORM  \NORYi.— Continued. 


Meteorology 

Astronomy 

Geology 

Mineralogy 

Cloud  forms  at  different 
times  of  the  day. 

Varying  form  of 
the  moon.     Size 
and  variation  of 
the  angle  of  the 
sun's  rays. 

Relief  forms 

Forms  of  weathered 
minerals  and 
rocks.     Meaning 
of  the  forms. 

ca 
S 

Compare  the  rainfall  by 
weeks.     Ratio  to  the 
annual  rainfall. 
Amount  of  water  to  an 
acre.     Humidity  of  the 
atmosphere. 

Ratio  of  length  of 
day  to  that  of  the 
night.     Rate  of 
change  in  day's 
length  during  the 
month.     Variation 
in  size  of  angle  of 
noon  rays. 

Comparison  of  va- 
rious areas  having 
natural  boundaries 
in  the  neighbor- 
hood. 

Proportion  of  sand, 
gravel  and  clay  in 
soil  studied. 

<      0 

Make  a  hygrometer. 
Rain-guage.     Baro- 
meter, 

Make  a  shadow- 
stick. 

Make  boxes  and 
trays  for  speci- 
mens. 

Make  sieves  for 
analyzing  soils. 

i 

Drawing  of  cloud  forms. 
Of  instruments  to  be 
used  in  making. 

Varying  angle  of 
noon  rays  of  sun. 
Moon's  phases. 

Various  natural 
areas  studied. 

1 

Cloud  effects  in  color  at 
different  times  during 
the  day. 

Sky  colors. 

Landscape  effects 
produced  by  soil 
and  rock. 

Landscape  effects 
produced  by  soils. 

z 

H 

Compare  the  meteoro- 
logical conditions  of 
September   at  Chicago 
with  other  regions. 

How  the  moon 
changes  in  one 
month. 

How  soil  is  made 
from  rock. 

How  soils  are 
mingled. 

D 
O 

Study  of  the  language  forms  necessary  in  all  written  and  oral  expression  which  occurs 
in  the  study  of  all  subjects.     Choice  of  words;  spelling;  capitals;  pronunciation;  punc- 
tuation; sentence:  subject  and  predicate;  paragraph;    figures  of  speech.     Function  of 
words  —  parts  of  speech.     Relations  of  words. 

"  When  Comes  Re- 
freshing Rain,"  Na- 
tional Music  Reader 
No.  4- 

"  Song  of  the 
Stars,"  National 
Music  Reader 
No.  4. 

"The  Mountain- 
eer's Song," 
Public  School 
Music  Course 
No.  6. 

'•  Nutting  Song," 
Public  School 
Music  Course 
No.  6. 

U 
Pi 

Elementary  Meteor- 
ology.—Z?a57z"j. 

Instructions  to  Volun- 
tary Observers,  U. 
S.  Weather  Bureau. 

Fairyland  of  Science, 
chap,  xw.— Buckley. 

Forms  of  Water. —  Tyn- 
dull. 

Teacher's  Manual 

of  Geography.— 

Redway, 
Starland.— ^d://. 
Astronomy.— iV^ew- 

comb.     Briefer 

Course. 

Shall  We  Teach 

Geology, — 

Winchell. 
Geological  Story.— 

— Dana. 
Aspects  of  the 

Earth.— 5Aa/^r. 

Common  Minerals 
and  Rocks. — 
Crosby. 

Crosby's  Tables. 

COURSE  OF  STUDY 

JANUARY. 
THOUGHT  WORK. 


89 


0 

Zoology 

Botany 

Geography 

Physics 

Chemistry 

« 

Foods,  kinds,  prepa- 

Winter condi- 

Sources of  dif- 

Air, its  physical 

Tests  for  starch 

n 

■« 

ration.    Respir- 

tion of  plants. 

ferent  kinds  of 

properties,— 

and  albumen. 

to 

"i 

ation. 

Buds,  bark, 

food.  Climatic 

elasticity. 

Hydrogen  a 

twigs. 

influences  upon 
food  required. 

pressure,  mo- 
bility. 

constituent  of 
water. 

H 

The  income  of  the 

Resting  state  of 

Adaptation  of 

Energy  acting 

Chemical 

U) 

organism.     Organ- 

living  matter. 

organism  to 

through  the 

change. 

u 

ization  of  living 

different  geo- 

atmosphere. 

5 

matter.     Storing  of 

graphic  con- 

energy. 

ditions. 

All  the  different 

Buds.    Twigs. 

Samples  of  food 

Toy  balloons. 

Varieties  of 

varieties  possible. 

Seeds. 

that  can  be 

Rubber  balls. 

starchy  foods. 

(A 

The  proportions 

preserved  in 

An  egg.    A 

Q 

necessary  for  a 

jars  and  other- 

small piece  of 

H 

day's  fare. 

wise.  Repre- 

lean meat. 

U 

sent  different 

|J 

regions  if  poss- 

0 

ible,  e.  g.,rice. 

0 

coffee,  tea, 
wheat,  corn, 
molasses,  etc. 

Scales  for  weighing. 

Sharp  knife  for 

Maps  and  draw- 

Glass tubing  i 

Test  tubes  or 

Receptacles  for 

cutting  buds 

ing  materials. 

ft.  long,  I  m. 

small  bottles. 

D 

holding  different 

and  twigs. 

diameter  for 

Scraps  of  zinc 

^ 

kinds  of  foods,— 

Magnifying 

pump  stock. 

or  nails.     One 

35 

jars,  bottles,  etc. 

glasses. 

Smaller  tubing. 

oz,  iodine  tinc- 

t 

Rubber  tubing 

ture.     One  oz. 

<5 

two  ft.  in  length. 

hydrochloric 

Botdes  and 

acid.     Alcohol 

quart  jars. 

lamp. 

The  kinds  of  foods 

Appearance 

Location  of 

Observation  of  a 

Changes  pro- 

used at  home. 

given  to  the 

places  produ- 

pump.    Visit  a 

duced  in  food 

Kinds  in  the  mar- 

landscape by 

cing  different 

fire  engine. 

by  cooking. 
Hardening  of 

kets.     The  neces- 

trees. Appear- 

foods.    Coun- 

Note working 

"rt 

saries.     The  luxu- 

ance of  buds. 

tries  with  simi- 

of air-brake. 

meats  and  eggs. 

S 

ries.     Modes  of 

of  twigs,  of 

lar  food  supply. 

Working  of 

Tests  for  im- 

S 

cooking.    Times  of 

bark. 

Location  of 

gates  at  R.  R. 

pure  air;  odor; 

0 

eating.     Move- 
ments in  breathing. 

ores  and  min- 
ing regions. 

crossings. 

mental  effects. 

2 

Places  on  the 

0 

snow  line  in 

< 

January, 

> 
OS 

Weigh  out  the 

Dissect  the 

Use  maps  in 

Use  tubing  to 

Apply  iodine 

proper  amount  of 

buds  to  find  the 

locating  regions 

make  a  pump. 

tincture  to 

0 

c 

food  for  one  meal. 

living  parts. 

of  the  various 

Use  tubes  by 

starchy  foods. 

1) 

Arrange  these  in 

Dissect  the 

food  supplies. 

suction  to  show 

Apply  heat  to 

proper  vessels  in 

twigs  and  de- 

Locate mining 

air  pressure. 

albumen  of  egg 

i3 

three  groups  show- 

termine the 

regions.  Snow 

Use  quart  jar 

and  meat.  Ap- 

ing the  three  meals. 

living  parts. 

line  in  January, 

and  tubing  to 

ply  the  lime- 

Visit  Field  Mil. 

find  out  quan- 

water test  to 

't3 

seum,  Dept.  of 

tity  of  air 

the  breathed 

'o 

Physiology, 

breathed. 

air.  Take  air 

D< 

from  various 

Cfi 

parts  of  the 
room. 

Food  of  animals,  (i) 

Food  of  plants. 

Story  of  our 

Hooker's  Child's 

0 

The  Alligator,   (i) 

(2)    Leafbuds 

Continent, 

Book  of  Na- 

Z 

The  Vampire.   (3) 

and  covering  of 

chap.  I   (6) 

ture,     Part  HL 

Q 

How  the 

buds,  leaves 

Productions  of 

chaps,  iv  to 

squirrel  eats  his 

and  flowers.  (13) 

the  West 

vii,    (5)    Aerial 
Ocean  in  Which 

P!k 

food.  (4) 

Indies,  (i) 

We  Live.   (14) 

The  Three  Beans. 

The  Little  Pine 

The  Bugle 

The  World  is  Too 

Hydrogen, 

U 

(15)  Cuvier.   (16) 

Tree.  (4)  The 

Song. —  Tenny- 

Much With  Us, 

Short  History 

>  £ 

Scatter  your 

Discontented 

son. 

—  Words- 

of  Natural 

\t 

crumbs. 

Pine  Tree.   (4) 

The  Sun  upon 

worth. 

Science.— 

Talking  in 

the  Lake  is 

Winter's  Wild 

Buckley. 

'0.  w 

Their  Sleep. 

Low, — Scott. 

Birth-night,— 

1- 

(17)   Nothing 

Holland. 

but  Leaves.  (4) 

Linnaeus.  (16) 

"S 

The  true  object  < 

if  science  is  to  lea 

d  the  mind  of  ma 

n  towards  its  no 

jle  destination- 

0  s 

fl 

a  knowledge  of  truth 

— to  spread  soun 

3  and  useful  ideas 

among  the  lowest 

classes  of  people, 

J 

to   draw  human   be 

ngs  from  the  eff 

acts    of   prejudice 

s  and  passions, 

0    make   reason 

s^ 

J 

the  arbitrator  and  su 

Dreme  guide  of  pu 

blic  opinion,— Cl 

viER,  Heroes  of 

Science. 

90 


THE  THIRD   YEARBOOK 


JANUARY. 
THOUGHT  yNOVJL— Continued. 


H 

C 

O 

Meteorology 

Astronomy 

Geology 

Mineralogy 

1 

Effects  of  weather  upon 
demand   for  food.     Ef- 
fects upon  productions. 

Effect  of  season 
changes  upon  food 
required. 

Fossil  plants  as  a 
history  of  life 
on  the  earth. 

Testing  minerals. 
Ores. 

I 

Sensitiveness  of  the  or- 
ganism to  meteorologi- 
cal influences. 

Changing  relation 
of  the  earth  and 
sun. 

Persistence  of  life 
upon  the  earth. 
Time  included  in 
life  history  on  the 
earth. 

Contrast  between 
the  organic  and  the 
inorganic. 

.J 

Fossils  that  may  be 
found  in  lake-shore 
pebbles  or  in  coal 
and  slate  at  the 
coal  yards. 

Stones.     Ores. 

i 

< 
< 

Rain  gauge.  Barometer. 
Thermometer.   Hygro- 
meter.   Weather  maps. 

Shadow-Stick. 
Ruler.     Brass  Pro- 
tractor. 

Jars  for  holding 
water   and  sand  to 
show  how  leaves 
and  other  forms 
may  become  im- 
bedded. 

Acid.  Alcohol  lamp. 
Blowpipe.  Char- 
coal. Forceps. 

1 

< 

c 
O 

Influence  of  the  weather 
upon  the  appetite.    In- 
fluence upon  mental 
and    physical    activity. 
Character  of  the  rain. 
Kinds  of  clouds.  Forms 
of  snowflakes.     Frost 
crystals. 

Points  on  the  hori- 
zon of  sunrise  and 
sunset.     Moon's 
phases.     Venus 
evening  star.  Mars 
and  Jupiter.    Con- 
stellations. 

Burial  of  sticks, 
leaves  and  other 
forms  in  mud  and 
silt.     Visit  coal 
yards  and  quarries 
and  the  lake  shore 
in  search  of  fossils. 

Uses  of  metals  of 
various  kinds.  Iron, 
lead,  brass,  copper, 
tin,  zinc  in  ma- 
chines and  in  man- 
ufactures. 

II 

Measure  the  rainfall. 
Depth  of  snow. 
Measure  the   humidity 
with  hygrometer. 

Measure  slant  of 
sun's  rays.     Note 
length  of  day  and 
night. 

Into  a  jar  of  water 
sprinkle  sand  or  silt 
and  illustrate  how 
leaves  and  twigs  or 
bones  may  be 
buried. 

Test  the  ores  as  to 
solubility,  fusibility, 
hardness,  etc. 

5 

Clouds  and  Rain.  (4) 

Storyland  of  the 
^Uxs.— Pratt.  (7) 

Story  of  the  Amber 
Beads.  (8)    Earth 
Building,   (i)  A 
mountain  of  fossils. 
Written  in  Rocks. 
(i)   Footprints  in 
the  Sand,  (i) 
Fossils.   (9) 

Mining.  (10)  Com- 
mon Minerals  and 
Rocks.  (12) 

.4 

Snowflakes.     (2)    Rime 

of  the  Ancient  Mariner. 

— Coleridge, 
The   First  Snow-fall.— 

Lowell. 
Blow  Blow  Thou  Winter 

Wind.-^J  You  Like 

It. 

What  Can  I  Do.  (2) 
Copernicus.  (18) 
The  Silver  Boat. 
(7)— yJ/.  F.  Butts. 

Hesperus'    Song. — 
Ben  Jonson. 

Life  of  Steno.  (16) 
The  Petrified  Fern. 
— Mary  Belles 
Branch. 

Flint  and  Steel.— 
Sajce. 

2  1 

In  nature,  all  is  useful,  all  is  beautiful.     It  is  therefore  beautiful  because  it  is  alive, 
moving,  reproductive ;  it  is  therefore  useful  because  it  is  symmetrical  and  fair.     Beauty 
will  not  come  at  the  call  of  a  legislature,  nor  will   it  repeat  in  England  or  America  its 
history  in  Greece.     It  will  come  as  always,  unannounced,  and  spring  up  between  the  feet 
of  brave  and  earnest  men.     It  is  in  vain  that  we  look  for  genius  to  reiterate  its  miracles  in 
the  old  arts;  it  is  its  instinct  to  find  beauty  and  holiness  in  new  and  necessary  facts,  in 
the  field  and  roadside,  in  the  shop  and  mill.— Emerson,  Essay  on  Art. 

COURSE  OF  STUDY 

JANUARY. 

FORM   WORK. 


91 


Zoology 

Botany 

Geography 

Physics 

Chemistry 

Forms  of  fruits  used 
as    food  as  wholes 
and  in  sections. 

Geometric  forms 
found  in  buds 
and  their  sec- 
tions. Form  in 
section  of  twigs 
showing  mode 
of  growth. 

Vertical  and 
horizontal 
forms  of  natural 
divisions. 

Forms  occurring 
in  apparatus. 
Circle,  rect- 
angle, cylinder. 
Relation  of 
form  to 
function. 

s 

Cost  of  a  meal ;  of 
each  article  of  food ; 
of  a  day's  board ; 
board  for  a  week, 
month,  year.     Cost 
for  a  family. 

Compare  num- 
ber of  buds 
frost-killed 
with  the  num- 
ber of  buds  still 
alive  on  last 
year's  growth. 

Areas  of  the 
regions  produ- 
cing different 
foods  compared. 
Mining  regions. 

Amount  of  air 
breathed  each 
respiration. 
Examples 
showing  elas- 
ticity of  air. 
Diameters  of 
the  chest  in 
various  phases 
of  respiration, 
before  and  after 
exercise. 

11 

^1 

To  show  bulk  of  food 
needed.     Fruits 
used  as  food. 

Forms  of  buds, 
twigs  and  seeds. 

Sand  modeling 
maps.     Show 
relief  of  differ- 
ent food  areas. 

Make  suction 
and  force 
pumps.  Siphon. 
Form  of  the 
chest;  relative 
diametors  in 
respiration. 

Apparatus  for 
for  making 
hydrogen. 

i 

< 

Q 

Fruits  used  as  food. 

Sections  of  buds, 
and  twigs  show- 
ing location  of 
living  material. 

Maps  showing 
location  of  food 
producing 
regions.    Min- 
ing regions. 

Apparatus  need- 
ed to  show 
properties  of 
air.    Essentials 
of  a  fire  engine ; 
of  an  air  brake ; 
of  R.  R.  cross- 
ing gate.  Pumps 
showing  valves. 
Barometer. 

Apparatus  need- 
ed for  making 
hydrogen. 

J 

Colors  of  fruits  used 
as  food. 

Paint  sections  of 
buds  and  Uvigs 
to  show  living 
parts. 

Laiidscapes. 
Winter  colors. 

The  color  of 
starch  in  the 
test  with  iodine. 

i 

Preparation  of  food. 
Time  of  eating 
with  different  ani- 
mals. Flesh  eaters. 
Vegetarians.  Sum- 
mary of  work. 

Winter  aspects 
of  plants.    The 
woods  in  win- 
ter.   Summary 
of  observations. 

Foods  of  differ- 
ent nations. 
Modes   of  eat- 
ing.   Modes  of 
cooking. 

Description  of 
a  fire  engine. 
Description  of 
an  air  brake. 
Description  of 
a  lifting  pump. 
Description  of 
a  barometer. 
Summary  of 
experiments. 

Hydrogen  com- 
pared with  oxy- 
gen.   How 
hydrogen  is 
prepared. 

^1 

Study  of  the  language  forms  necessary  in  all  written  and  oral  expression  which  occurs 
in  the  study  of  all  subjects.     Choice  of  words ;  spelling ;  capitals ;  pronunciation ;  punctu- 
ation ;  sentence,  subject  and  predicate ;  paragraph ;  figures  of  speech.     Function  of  words 
— parts  of  speech.     Relations  of  words. 

y 

"Nature  gives  no 
sorrow." — Nat. 
Mus.  Course  No.  i. 

"EveningPrayer 
in  the  Forest." 
—Nat.  Mus. 
Course  No.  4. 

•'  Midwinter."— 
Nat.  Mus. 
Course  No.  2. 

"  What  God  per- 
forms."—Nat. 
Mus.    Course 

No.  4. 

"Winter  Song.— 
Nat.  Mus. 
Course  No.  2. 

U 

u 
z 

« 

b. 

U 

Life  in  Nature. 
Humboldt  Lib.— 
Hint  on. 

The  Study  of  Ani- 
mal \A\ft— Thom- 
son. 

The  Human  Body.— 
Martin. 
"Air  and  Life." 
Smithsonian  Rep. 
'93. 

A  Year  with  the 
Trees.—  Flagg. 

Aspects  of  the 
Earth.— 
Shaler. 

Geographical 
Reader.— 
Johonnot. 

Geographical 
Readers. — 
King. 

Aspects  of  the 
Earth.— 
Shaler. 

"Breath  and 
Breathing."Sci. 
for  All.  Vol. 
IV. 

Conservation  of 
Energy.    Hum- 
boldt Lib,— 
Balfour 
Stewart. 

Entertainment 

in  Chemistry. 

—  Tyler. 
Chemistry  of 

Common  Life. 

— Johnson. 
First  Book  in 

Chemistry. 

Shaw- 

Brewster. 
Foods.— Inter- 

National  Set. 

Series. 
Chemistry  of 

Cooking. — 

Williams. 

92 


THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 


JANUARY. 
FORM  V^OKY..- Continued. 


Meteorology 

Astronomy 

Geology 

Mineralogy 

Cloud  forms.     Compare 

Angles  formed  by 

Forms  of  fossils. 

Forms  of  crystals. 

with  previous  months. 

slant  of  sun's  rays. 

Ferns. 

^ 

Compare  with  pre- 

vious months. 

Averages  of  daily  rec- 

Compare slant  of 
sun's  rays  and 

Estimated  rate  of 

Relative  weight  of 

Oi 

ords.     Compare  with 

erosion  in  N.  A. 

ores.     Specific 

a 

previous  month.     lo 

day's  length  with 

I  ft.  in  5,000  yrs. 

gravity. 

inches  snow  =  i  inch 

slant  and  length  in 

Estimated  length  of 

D 

rainfall.     Compare 

previous  months. 

time  to  unearth  a 

^ 

rainfall  and  humidity 
with  previous  months. 

carboniferous 
fossil. 

si 

Chalk -model  cloud 

Make  shadow -stick. 

Fossil  forms.     Im- 

Crystal forms. 

a    g 

forms. 

print  leaves  in  clay 

il 

and  dry  or  bake. 

Maps  showing  isotherms, 

In  a  large  circle 

Fossil  plants  found 

Crystal  forms. 

z 

and  course  of  storms. 

draw  radii  showing 

in  coal,  slate,  and 

^ 

Snow  crystals.  Cloud 

changing  slant  of 

elsewhere. 

< 

forms. 

sun's  rays  during 

Q 

month.     Moon's 

phases. 

K 

Cloud  colors.     Sky 

Color  of  the  planets. 

Color  of  fossil 

Colors  of  ores  and 

o 

colors — sunset,  sunrise. 

remains. 

metals. 

The  storms  for  the 

Summary  of  changes 

The  earth  history 

How  ores  are 

t 

month.     How  to  pre- 

during the  month. 

suggested  by  a 

smelted.     How 

H 

dict  the  weather.    Why 

Comparison  of  the 

fossil  plant. 

ores  are  mined. 

Si 

the  wind  veers. 

appearance  of  the 

Mineral  wealth 

^ 

planets;  their 
apparent  motions. 

compared  with 
other  resources. 

o 

Study  of  the  language  forms  necessary  in  . 

ill  written  and  oral  ex 

pression  which  occurs 

^ 

in  the  study  of  all  subjects.     Choice  of  words ; 

spelling;  capitals;  p 

ronunciation ;  punctu- 

^ 

ation ;  sentence,  subject  and  predicate ;  paragi 

aph ;  figures  of  speec 

h.     Function  of  words 

^ 

— parts  of  speech.     Relations  of  words. 

"Evening  Shades  are 

"The  Evening  Star." 

"God  the  Lord." 

w 

Falling." — Nat.  Mus. 

—Nat.  Mus. 

—Nat.  Mus. 

D 

Course  No.  4. 

Course  No.  1. 

Course  No.  2. 

S 

"Evening." — Nat. 
Mus.  Course  No.  4. 

Elementary  Meteorology. 

Astronomy  with  an 
Opera  Glass.— 

Aspects  of  the 

World  of  Matter. 

—Davis. 

Earth. — Shaler 

—Ballard. 

U 

Aspects  of  the  Earth. — 

Serviss. 

The  Geological 

Common  Minerals 

^ 

Shaler. 

Starland.— 5«//. 

Story. — Dana. 

and  Rocks. 

u 

Instructions  to  Volun- 

Cowperthwaite's 

—  Crosby. 

tary  Observers.— 

Planisphere. 

Mineral  Resources 

b. 

Weather  Bureau. 

— A .  Flanagan. 

of  the  U.S.  (Re- 

Pi 

ports.)     Applied 

Geology. 

—  Williams. 

COURSE  OF  STUDY 

JUNE. 
THOUGHT  WORK. 


93 


J 

Zoology 

Botany 

Geography 

Physics 

Chemistry 

„ 

Insect  life.    Use  the 

Plant  Physiol- 

Conditions of 

Electricity, 

Chemistry  of  a 
battery. 

D 

« 

tree  as  a  center  for 

ogy.     Passage 
of  water 

life  at  this 

Frictional  and 

m 

1 

study. 

season.     Vari- 

Voltaic. 

in 

through  the 
plant. 

ous  stages  of 
crop  growth. 

£ 

Inter-relations  of 

Vital  functions 

Relations  of 

Nature  of  elec- 

Chemical 

animals  and  plants. 

in  the  plant. 

crops  to 

trical  energy. 

change  as  a 

§ 

geographic 

source  of 

U 

conditions. 

energy. 

Butterflies,  moths, 

Different  kinds 

Pictures  showing 

Bottles,  wide- 

Pieces  of  cop- 
per and  zinc. 

(A 

bees,  beetles.     In- 

of seedling 

growing  crops 

mouthed,  or 

1 

sect  eggs.     Young 

plants.     Oak, 

of  various 

jars.     Small - 

Bottles.  Acid. 

H 

larvae.  Grasshop- 

maple and  ash 

regions  at  this 

sized  copper 

pers.     Dragon - 

seedlings  one 

season. 

wire  with 

flies. 

year  old.     Use 

insulation. 

^ 

sunflower 

Glass  tubes 

o 

plant.     Study 
of  flowers. 

and  .sealing 
wax. 

Frame  for  mount- 

Scales and 

Sand-pans  for 

Jars  or  wide- 

Battery  outfit 

p 

ing  insects. 

weights.  Wide- 

modeling  maps. 

mouthed  bot- 

used in 

5 

Poison  bottle.  Nets 

mouthed 

Clay  for  model- 

tles. Copper 

Physics. 

s: 

for  insects.     Jars 

bottles.   Grad- 

ing. 

wire.   Tubes. 

< 

and  boxes  for  in- 

uate for  meas- 

Zinc and  cop- 

< 

sect  and  larva 

uring  water. 

per  plates  for 

cages. 

battery. 

Insects  that  infest 

The  wilting  of 

Character  of 

Examination  of 

Arrangement 

the  leaves  of  plants; 

plants.  Rela- 

vegetation in 

the  telephone. 

of  batteries  in 

^ 

the  bark ;  the  wood ; 

tion  of  leaves 

different  lo 

The  telegraph. 

a  telegraph 

rt 

the  ground  about 

to  sunshine. 

calities.    The 

Trolley  street 
car.    The 

office.     In 

the  roots ;  that  fre- 

The flow  of 

environment 

telephone 

C^ 

quent  the  flowers. 

sap. 

and  growth  of 

dynamo  and 

central. 

Depositories  of 

annuals,  bien- 

electric motor. 

eggs.     Food  of 

nials,  and 

^ 

larvae. 

perennials. 

P 

Insect  mounting. 

Determine 

Trace  on 

Use  glass  rod 

Observe  the 

5 

Modes  of  flight; 

amount  of 

weather  maps 

and  sealing 

chemical 

K 

c 

of  walking;  of  se- 

water trans- 

the areas  of 

wax  and  cloth 

action  in  a 

!2 

curing  food ;  of 

pired  by  a 

the  various 

to  develop 

simple  zinc 

O 

eating.      Hatching 

seedling  oak, 

crops.     Note 

electricity. 

and  copper 

1 

of  insect  eggs. 

maple,  ash  or 

the  isotherms 

Connect  bat- 

battery.    See 

sunflower. 

crossing  each 

tery  with  small 

Nature 

Place  in  wide- 

area. 

door  bell. 

Study,  p.  415. 

"3 

mouthed 

Test  the  current 

*o 

bottles  in  soil 

with  galvano- 

S, 

saturated  with 

meter.     See 

w 

water.     See 
Nature  Study 
for  June. 

Nature 
Study,  p.  416. 

Wings  busy  and 

Song  and  Hymn 

The  Central 

Electricity 

Electricity  the 

sober,  (i)  Flying 
bugs  and  walking 

of  Garden  and 

Plain  and 

the  Science  of 

Science  of  the 

AVood.  (2) 

Eastern  High- 

the 19th  cen- 

19th century. 

S 

sticks,  (i)   Wings 

The  Sexes  of 

lands.  (4) 

tury,  chap. I 

pp.  79  and  84. 

z 

of  gossamer  and 

Plants.  (3) 

The  Great 

(Humboldt 

< 

gold,  (i)  Fruit 

The  Arrange- 

Northwest. (4) 

Lib,,  No.  148). 

» 

and  grain  destroy- 

ment of  Leaves. 

Mexican 

Ibid.,  chap. 

P^ 

ers,  (i) 

(3)   Hidden 

Farming  and 

ii.  Part  II. 

Flowers.  (3) 

Mining  (4) 

Ibid.,  con- 
cluding 
chapter. 

Birds  in  Spring,  (i) 

The  Ivy  Green. 

To  the  Dande- 

Spring.— 

After  a  Tem- 

Tom. (i)  Birds  at 

— Dickens. 

lion.— Z«»7C'e^//. 

Holmes. 

pest,— 5ry««/. 

td 

Dawn.  (2)  The 

My  Window 

In  Stacking 

Lines  on  Re- 

Summer Wind. 

«B 

Rochester  Robin. 

Ivy. — Mary 

Time. — Gar- 

visiting the 

—Bryant. 

S< 

(2) 

Mapes  Dodge. 

land. 

Country.— 

June.—  Bryant. 

ll 

The  Birch  Tree. 

Color  in  the 

Bryant. 

— Lowell. 

Wheat,— Gar- 

hJ 

latid. 
Com  Shadows. 
Garland, 

■*•    X   1/5 

Not  less  conspicuou 

>  is  the  preponderar 

ce  of  nature  over  v 

•ill  in  all  practical 

ife.     There  is  less 

intention  in   history  tha 

n   we   ascribe   to  it. 

We  impute  deep 

laid,   far-sighted  pi 

ans  to   Cjfisar  and 

K   H  O 

Napoleon;  but  the  best 

of  their  power  was  1 

n  nature,  not  in  th« 

m.     Men  of  an  exti 

raordinary  success, 

£w" 

in  their  honest  moraen 

ts   have   always  sur 

g    "Not   unto   us,  I 

lot  unto  us." —  Em 

BRSON,  £ssay  on 

S^ 

1 

Spiritual  Laws. 

94 


THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 


JUNE. 
THOUGHT  WORK 


Continued. 


Meteorology 


Astronomy 


Geology 


Mineralogy 


Thunder-storms . 
Lightning. 


Summer  solstice. 


Fieldwork. 
Erosion. 


Mechanical  con  • 
stituents  of  soil. 


Electrical  conditions  of 
earth  and  air. 


Relations  of  earth 
to  sun. 


Modification  of 
earth  forms. 


Relation  of  soil  con- 
stituents to  fer- 
tility. 


Weather  Maps. 


32 


Specimens  of  rock 
showing  weather- 
ing and  wearing. 


Various  specimens 
of  soils. 


>  « 


<  a;  <« 

5  H  y 

O  </i  " 


%^ 


Thermometer.     Barome- 
ter.    Hygrometer. 
Rain-guage. 
Vane. 


Wind 


Shadow-stick. 
Brass  protractor. 


Trays  or  boxes  for 
specimens. 


Boxes  for  soils. 


Formation  of  thunder 
clouds.     Character  of 
lightning  flashes. 
Examine  trees  struck 
by  lightning.     Charac- 
ter of  the  weather 
before  and  after  such 
storms. 


Position  of  sun  on 
meridian.     Note 
noon  shadows. 
Position  of  the  sun 
on  the  horizon. 
Change  in  day's 
length. 


Visit  lake  or  river 
shore.      Formation 
of  bars.     Wearing 
of  banks. 


Soils  producing 
different  kinds  of 
plants.     Where 
the  healthiest 
plants  are  pro- 
duced. 


Note  the  average  daily 
temperature  best 
suited  for  planted 
growth.     Note  amount 
of  rainfall  received. 


Compare  the  area 
covered  by  a 
given  volume  of 
sunshine  with  the 
area  covered  by 
the  same  volume 
in  previous  months. 


Collect  specimens 
showing  various 
phases  and  stages 
of  erosion. 


By  means  of  sieves, 
find  the  amount  of 
material,  fine, 
medium  and 
coarse,  in  different 
samples  of  soil. 


First  Book  in  Geology, 
pp.  56-66. —  Shaler. 
Ibid.,  pp.  98 ff. 


Illustrated  Lectures 
in  Astronomy. — 
The  Oxford 
Handy  Helps. 

The  Storyland  of 
the  Stars. — 
Mara  Pratt. 


The  West  Wind.— Gar- 
land. 

Song  of  the  Winds. — 
Garland, 

Spring  Rains. — Gar- 
land. 


Sundown. — Gar- 
land. 

Drought. —  Gar- 
land, 

The  Noonday  Plain. 
— Garland. 

Moonlight. — 
Longfello-M. 


First  Book  in 
Geology,  pp. 
107-130. — Shaler, 


First  Book  in 
Geology,  pp.  i- 
— Shaler. 


46. 


The  Gladness  of 
Nature. — Bryant. 

A  Summer  Ramble. 
— Bryant. 


Plowing. 

— Garland. 
Earth. — Bryant. 


A  true  announcement  of  the  law  of  creation,  if  a  man  were  found  worthy  to  declare  it, 
would  carry  art  up  into  the  kingdom  of  nature,  and  destroy  its  separate  and  contrasted 
existence.  The  fountains  of  invention  and  beauty  in  modern  society  are  all  but  dried  up. 
....  Now  men  do  not  see  nature  to  be  beautiful  and  they  go  to  make  a  statue  which 
shall  be. — Emerson,  Essay  on  Art. 


COURSE  OF  STUDY 


95 


JUNE. 

FORM  WORK. 


Zoology 

Botany 

Geology 

Physics 

Chemistry 

Form  of  insect 

Forms  assumed 

Forms  of  the 

Most  economical 

Most  economical 

bodies.     Meaning 

by  tree  tops. 

various  crop 

forms  in  con- 

forms of  zinc 

of  the  various  forms. 

Study  form  as 

areas. 

struction  of 

and  carbons  or 

s 

Advantage  in  loco- 

determined 

apparatus. 

copper  used  in 

motion,  walking 

by  bud  devel  - 

batteries. 

^ 

and  flight. 

opment.  and 

angle  of 

branches. 

Adaptation  of 

leaf  forms. 

Varieties  of  insect 

Growth  of  twigs 

Comparison  of 

Measurements 

Measurements 

life.     Number  that 

per  week.  Lat- 

deltas and 

necessary  in 

needed  in  bat- 

live on  the  leaves ; 

eral  and  ter- 

other areas 

various  appara- 

tery construc- 

that deposit  eggs 

minal  growth 

bearing  upon 

tus  needed. 

tion. 

on  the  leaves ;  in 

compared. 

the  amount  of 

CQ 

the  twigs ;  in  the 

Leaf  area  esti- 

erosion in  vari- 

s 

ground.     Number 

mated  from 

ous  places. 

^ 

different  kinds  of 
ground  insects. 

measurement. 
Am't  of  water 
transpired  by 
an  ordinary 
tree. 

i|i 

Model  insect  forms. 

Forms  of  leaves 

Maps  showing 

Making  of  ap- 

Making of  bat- 

Forms of  eggs- 

modeled. 

distribution  of 

paratus. 

teries. 

enlarged. 

river  systems. 

S^ 

slopes,  etc. 

Drawing  of  insects 

Drawing  of  tree 

Maps  showing 

Drawing  of  ap- 

Drawing of  bat 

t5 

showing  structure 

forms.     Forms 

distribution  of 

paratus  show- 
ing connec- 

teries showing 

a 

of  parts. 

of  leaves. 

river  systems. 

connections 

? 

Forms  of  early 

Location  of 

tions  necessary 

and  relations 

•< 

OS 

Q 

forming  fruit. 

deltas  and 

for  various 

of  parts. 

other  features 

purposes. 

relating  to  ero- 

sion. 

Painting  of  butter- 

Landscape 

Coloration  of 

K 

flies,  moths  and 

work.     Trees, 

maps  showing 

O 

other  insects. 

showing 

relief,  slopes, 

a 

change  of  foli- 

valleys and  all 

age.    Leaves. 

features  of 

erosion. 

How  insects  fly. 

The  dependence 

Relation  of  val- 

Electricity com- 

Effects of  chem- 

i 

How  insects  walk. 

of  plants  upon 

leys  to  the  set- 

pared with 

ical  changes  in 

How  insects  eat. 

insects.   Water 

tlement  of  the 

steam  power. 

a  battery  com- 

H 

How  insects  are 

in  plant  life. 

country.  Effect 

pared  wtth  ef- 

S 

dependent  upon 

of  mountains 

fects  of  chemi- 

^ 

plants. 

upon  settle- 

cal changes  in 

ment. 

combustion. 

•  u 

The  study  of  the 

ught  expression  t 

hrough  language. 

The  limits  of  tl 

e  sentence.     The 

5S 

phrase.    Technical  t 

erms  as  needed. 

Choice  of  words 

,  spelling ;  capital 

s ;  pronunciation ; 

■3g 

punctuation ;  senten 

ce;  paragraph;  fi 

gures  of  speech. 

"  The  Humble  Bee," 

"  Summer 

"  A  Mid-Sum- 

"The Light  that 
is  felt,"  Riv- 
erside Song 
Book. 

"  Woodnotes," 

i 

Riverside  Song 
Book. 

Studies,"  Riv- 
erside Song 

mer  Song," 
Riverside 

Riverside 
Song  Book. 

s 

Book. 

Song  Book. 

Our  Common  In- 

Trees of  N.  A. 

Earth  and  Man. 

Electricity  the 

Force  and  En- 

sects.— Pac^arrf. 

— Apgar. 

—Guyoi. 

Science  of  the 

ergy.— {Hum. 

Half-Hours  with  In- 

Physiological 

The  Earth's 

Nineteenth 

boldt  Lib.  No. 

sects,— Packard. 

Botany. — 

History.— 

Century, — 
{Humboldt 

106,) 

en 

Comstock's  Ento- 

Gray. 

Roberts. 

Lessons  in  Elec- 

M 

mology.    Comstock 

Recreations  in 

Handbook  of 

Lib.  Nos. 

t5'cjty;-^>"*- 

u 

Pub.  Co.,  Ithaca, 

Botany.— 

Commercial 

148-9.) 

dall.  {Hum- 

K 

N.  Y. 

Creevy. 

Geography.— 

The  Electric 

boldt  Uh.) 

Distribution  of  Ani- 

Flowers, Fiuits 

Chisholm. 

Light.— /<J/^,, 

No,  18,) 

mals  and  Plants. — 

and  Leaves.— 

Aspects  of  the 

No.  119. 

The  Electric 

(Humdoidt  Lih. 

Lubbock. 

Earth.— 

Modem  Views 

Ught.— Ibid., 

No.  64.) 

{Humboldt 
Lib.  Nos. 
161-2.) 

Shaler. 

of  Electricity. 
—Lodge. 

No.  119. 

96 


THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 


JUNE. 

FORM  '^O'^Y..— Continued. 


Meteorology 

Astronomy 

Geology 

Mineralogy 

Forms  of  clouds  at  differ- 

Form  of  shadow - 

Forms  made  by 

s 

ent  times  in  the  day. 

stick.     Angles 

erosion  due  to 

o 

Form  of  thunder- 

made by  sun's  rays 

slope,  hardness  of 

b 

clouds. 

at  different 
seasons. 

material  and 
amount  of  water. 

Rainfall ;  rainy,  cloudy 

Angle  of  noon  rays 

Estimate  from 

Various  mechani- 

and clear  days  com- 

compared with 

measurements  the 

cal  constituents  of 

pared  with  previous 

preceding  months. 

amount  of  silt  in 

soils  compared. 

u 

month. 

Day's  length  com- 

suspension in 

Proper  ratio  of 

"S. 

3 

pared.     Area  cov- 

different samples  of 

different  constitu- 

ered by  a  given 

water. 

ents  for  plant  life. 

;z; 

volume  of  sunshine 
compared  with 
similar  areas  in 
preceding  months. 

2  w  u 

Chalk -modeling  of 

Making  of  shadow - 

Sand-models  of 

Making  of  sieves 
and  other  necessary 
apparatus. 

cloud -forms.     Thun- 
der-clouds. 

stick. 

eroded  districts  ob- 
served. 

o 

Maps  showing  distribu- 

Drawings showing 

Drawings  showing 

Drawing  of  ap- 

tion of  rainfall  and 

slant  of  sun's  rays 

course  of  streams. 

paratus. 

& 

course  of  isotherms. 

at  noon  for  the 

of  lake  shore  and 

K 

different  months. 

other  features  of 

erosion. 

BJ 

Sky  colors  at  different 

Landscape  work 

Landscape  work 

s 

times  of  day. 

showing  features  of 

showing  colors  due 

cS 

erosion. 

to  differences  in 
soil. 

o 

2 

Description  of  a  thun- 

The apparent  course 

Describe  changes 

Relative  value  of 

H 

der-storm. 

of  the  sun  during 

witnessed  by 

different  soils. 

1 

the  year. 

erosion. 

2  o 

The  study  of  though 
phrase.    Technical  terms 

expression  through  1 

anguage.    The  limits 

of  the  sentence.    The 

1^ 

as  needed.    Choice  0 

■  words ;  spelling ;  cai 

jitals;  pronunciation; 

Hjg 

punctuation;  sentence; 

paragraph;  figures  of 

speech. 

u 

"  There  is  Music  in  the 

"  Softly  Now  the 

"  Stars  of  the  Sum- 

''The Harp  at  Na- 

t« 

Air,"  Riverside  Song 
Book. 

Light  of  Day," 

mer  Night,"  Riv- 

ture's Advent 

g 

Riverside  Song 

erside  Song  Book. 

Strung,"  River- 

Book. 

side  Song  Book. 

Elements  of  Meteor- 

Starland.—5a//. 

Aspects  of  the 

Applied  Geology.— 

ology.— ZJaz^zV. 

The  Sun. — {Hu-m- 

Earth.  —  Shaler. 

Williams. 

H 

Instructions  to  Volun- 

boldt Lib.  No.  49.) 

Town  Geology.— 

The  World  of 

z 

tary  Observers. — 

Romance  of  Astron- 

Kings ley. 

Manev.— Ballard. 

Weather  Bureau. 

omy. — Ibid.., 

The  Earth's  YiXs- 

Crosby's  Tables. 

HI 

Lightning,  Thunder  and 

No.  20. 

tory.— Roberts, 

Lightning  Conductors. 
—  {Humboldt  Lib. 

The  Wonders  of  the 

P^H 

Heavens. — Ibid., 

No.  139.) 

No.  14. 

MINUTES    OF    MEETINGS    HELD    AT    ATLANTA,    GA., 
FEBRUARY  22-25,    1904. 

(convention  hall^  piedmont  hotel.) 

Four  sessions  of  the  Society  were  held  at  Atlanta.  In  the 
absence  of  President  Jackman,  Professor  Reuben  P.  Halleck  was 
chosen  chairman,  and  conducted  the  discussions  and  business  with 
marked  acceptability. 

The  first  session  was  held,  as  appointed,  at  4  o'clock  p.  m.,  on 
Monday,  February  22.  The  entire  time  was  devoted  to  the  dis- 
cussion of  Dr.  John  Dewey's  paper  on  "  The  Relation  of  Theory  to 
Practice  in  Education."  This  paper  stirred  up  a  good  deal  of 
vigorous  thinking,  and  aroused,  perhaps,  more  than  the  usual 
interest  both  within  and  outside  the  membership  of  the  Society. 
The  discussion  was  highly  valuable  in  that  it  revealed  the  different 
points  of  view  and  methods  of  attacking  a  problem  by  many  differ- 
ent persons  whose  aims  are  common,  but  who  are  often  working 
under  widely  different  conditions.  It  was  found  necessary  to  limit 
the  speakers  to  five  minutes  each,  and  allow  no  person  to  speak 
twice  as  long  as  any  who  had  not  yet  spoken  wished  the  floor. 

The  meeting  set  for  Wednesday  (February  24)  was  changed 
from  2 :  30  p.  m.  to  5 :  30  p.  m.  This  was  to  avoid  conflict  with 
section  meetings  of  the  Department  of  Superintendence,  in  which 
most  of  the  members  were  interested. 

The  Monday  evening  meeting  proved  to  be  well  attended,  and 
there  was  close  and  progressive  discussion  of  Dr.  Dewey's  paper. 
At  this  meeting  there  was  an  informal  consideration  of  what  work 
the  Society  ought  to  take  up  next.  The  following  lines  were 
suggested : 

Charles  DeGarmo  :  Since  many  of  us  are  deeply  interested  in  the  prepa- 
ration of  teachers  for  secondary  education,  it  might  be  well  to  go  to  that  field. 

F.  M.  McMuRRY :  It  would  be  a  good  plan  to  have  a  thoroughgoing  dis- 
cussion of  what  is  "  scientific  method  "  in  the  study  of  education, 

Samuel  T.  Dutton:  (i)  The  field  of  the  kindergarten  and  primary 
school;    (2)  how  conserve  the  benefits  of  school  education  for  adult  life? 

97 


98  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

Stratton  D.  Brooks  :  The  question  of  admission  to  the  university  with- 
out examination. 

A.  Kaswell  Ellis  :  Take  one  of  our  educational  problems  and  make 
a  thoroughgoing  scientiiic  treatment  of  it. 

Grant  Karr:  Define  the  psychological  nature  of  the  common-school 
subjects. 

J.  Stanley  Brown  :  The  time  element  as  it  affects  the  elementary, 
secondary,  and  college  courses.     The  six-year  course  for  the  high  school. 

Other  suggestions  were  offered,  but  were  to  be  made  more 
definite  and  sent  to  the  Secretary. 

On  Wednesday  at  5  p.  m.,  at  the  regular  business  meeting  the 
following  officers  and  members  of  the  Executive  Committee  were 
chosen : 

President  —  Professor  Wilbur  S.  Jackman,  College  of  Education,  Uni- 
versity of  Chicago  (continued  another  year). 

Secretary-Treasurer  —  Manfred  J.  Holmes,  Illinois  State  Normal  Uni- 
versity, Normal,  111. 

Members  of  the  Executive  Committee,  to  serve  for  two  years  —  Charles 
A.  McMurry,  State  Normal  School,  DeKalb,  111.;  Reuben  Post  Halleck,  Male 
High  School,  Louisville,  Ky. 

A  motion  was  carried  to  appropriate  fifty  dollars  ($50)  for 
the  Secretary's  expenses  during  the  past  year. 

A  motion  was  carried  to  allow  the  Secretary  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  ($150)  for  expenses;  provided,  that  such  sum  remain 
in  the  treasury  after  all  other  indebtedness  of  the  Society  has  been 
discharged. 

The  discussion  of  Miss  Brooks's  paper  on  "  The  Relation  of 
Theory  to  Practice  in  City  Training  Schools"  brought  out  some 
helpful  comparisons  as  to  how  different  cities  are  trying  to  supply 
their  schools  with  trained  teachers.  This  discussion  also  suggested 
the  question  of  having  a  few  leaders  of  discussion  well  prepared 
beforehand,  and  ready  to  do  justice  to  the  paper  discussed. 

On  Thursday,  at  9  A.  m.^  the  fbllowing-named  persons  were 
elected  to  active  membership : 

Ezra  W.  Benedict,  principal  of  high  school,  Warrensburg,  N.  Y. 
Sarah  C.  Brooks,  principal  of  Teachers'  Training  School,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Edwin  C.  Broome,  superintendent  of  schools,  Rahway,  N.  J. 
John  F.  Brown,  professor  in  education,  State  University,  Iowa  City,  la. 
J.  Stanley  Brown,  superintendent  of  Township  High  School,  Joliet,  111. 


MINUTES  OF  MEETINGS  HELD  AT  ATLANTA,  GA.  99 

W.  T,  Carrington,  state  superintendent  01  public  schools,  Jefferson  City,  Mo. 

Charles  E.  Chadsey,  assistant  superintendent  of  schools,  Denver,  Colo. 

J.  M.  H.  Frederick,  superintendent  of  schools,  Lakewood,  O. 

Albert  Ross  Hill,  dean  of  Missouri  Teachers'  College,  Columbia,  Mo. 

Homer  P.  Lewis,  superintendent  of  schools,  Worcester,  Mass. 

Elizabeth  Mavity,  Illinois  State  Normal  Universty,  Normal,  111. 

George  A.  Newton,  superintendent  of  schools,  Greenville,  Tex. 

James  J.  Sheppard,  principal  of  High  School  of  Commerce,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Waite  A.  Shoemaker,  State  Normal  School,  St.  Cloud,  Minn. 

Elmer  W.  Walker,  superintendent  of  State  School  for  the  Deaf,  Delavan,  Wis. 

After  informal  consideration  of  plans  and  conduct  of  the  Society, 
it  was  moved  and  carried  that  the  topic  for  the  next  Yearbook  be 
taken  from  the  field  of  secondary  education. 

Annual  financial  statements  will  be  printed  in  Part  I  of  each 
Yearbook,  published  regularly  for  the  February  meeting. 


LIST  OF  ACTIVE  MEMBERS. 

Edwin  A.  Alderman,  president  of  Tulane  University,  New  Orleans,  La. 
Zonia  Baber,  School  of  Education,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  III 
Frank  Bachman,  Normal  College,  Athens,  O. 
C  M.  Bardwell,  Aurora,  111. 
R.  H.  Beggs,  Whittier  School,  Denver,  Colo, 
Ezra  W.  Benedict,  principal  of  high  school,  Warrensburg,  N.  Y. 
Frank  G.  Blair,  State  Normal  School,  Charleston,  111. 
Frederick  Bolton,  Iowa  City,  la. 
Richard  G.  Boone,  Yonkers,  N.  Y. 
E.  C.  Branson,  Normal  School,  Athens,  Ga. 
Francis  B.  Brant,  1637  S.  Fifteenth  Street,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Sarah  C  Brooks,  principal  Teachers'  Training  School,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Stratton  D.  Brooks,  Mason  street,  Boston,  Mass. 
Edwin  C  Broome,  superintendent  of  schools,  Rahway,  N.  J. 
Elmer  E.  Brown,  University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Calif. 
George  P.  Brown,  editor,  Bloomington,  111. 
John  F.  Brown,  State  University,  Iowa  City,  la. 
J.  Stanley  Brown,  Township  High  School,  Joliet,  111. 
Martin  G.  Brumbaugh,  3324  Walnut  Street,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
William  L.  Bryan,  University  of  Indiana,  Bloomington,  Ind. 
George  V.  Buchanan,  614  W.  Seventh  Street,  Sedalia,  Mo. 
Edward  F.  Buchner,  University  of  Alabama,  University,  Ala. 
Frederick  Burk,  State  Normal  School,  San  Francisco,  Calif. 
Jesse  D.  Burks,  557  W.  Twelfth  Street,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
W.  H.  Burnham,  Clark  University,  Worcester,  Mass. 
Nicholas  Murray  Butler,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
B.  C.  Caldwell,  president  of  Louisiana  State  Normal,  Natchitoches,  La. 
W.  T.  Carrington,  state  superintendent,  Jefferson  City,  Mo. 
Charles  E.  Chadsey,  assistant  superintendent  of  schools,  Denver,  Colo. 
Clarence  F.  Carroll,  Worcester,  Mass. 
C  P.  Gary,  state  superintendent,  Madison,  Wis. 
E.  W.  Chubb,  Athens,  O. 

P.  P.  Claxton,  Southern  Education  Board,  Knoxville,  Tenn. 
David  E.  Cloyd,  116  Nassau  street,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
John  W.  Cook,  State  Normal  School,  DeKalb,  111. 
William  J.  Crane,  Marshalltown,  la. 

Ellwood  I.  Cubberly,  Leland  Stanford  Junior  University,  Palo  Alto,  Calif. 

100 


LIST  OF  ACTIVE  MEMBERS  loi 

Frank  M.  Darling,  320  W.  Sixty-first  Place,  Chicago,  111. 

William  M.  Davidson,  Topeka,  Kan. 

Washington  S.  Dearmont,  State  Normal  School,  Cape  Girardeau,  Mo. 

Charles  DeGarmo,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

John  Dewey,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Edwin  G.  Dexter,  State  University,  Urbana,  111. 

Richard  E.  Dodge,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Newton  C.  Dougherty,  Peoria,  111. 

Augustus    S.    Downing,   One   Hundred   and   Nineteenth    Street   and    Second 

avenue.  New  York,  N.  Y. 
F.  B.  Dressier,  University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Calif. 
Samuel  T.  Dutton,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Charles  B.  Dyke,  Kamehameha  School,  Honolulu,  H.  I. 
Andrew  W.  Edson,  Park  Avenue  and  Fifty-ninth  street.  New  York,  N.  Y, 
A.  Kaswell  ElHs,  University  of  Texas,  Austin,  Tex. 
W.  H.  Elson,  Grand  Rapids,  Mich. 
David  Felmley,  State  Normal  University,  Normal,  111. 
Frank  A.  Fitzpatrick,  Boston,  Mass. 

George  M.  Forbes,  Rochester  University,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 
J.  M.  H.  Frederick,  superintendent  of  schools,  Lakewood,  O. 
R.  S.  Garwood,  Marshall,  Mich. 

Charles  B.  Gilbert,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Newell  D.  Gilbert,  DeKalb,  111. 
E.  C.  Glass,  Lynchburg,  Va. 
John  Glotfelter,  Emporia,  Kan. 
J.  P.  Gordy,  Ohio  State  University,  Columbus,  O. 
James  M.  Greenwood,  Kansas  City,  Mo. 
W.  N.  Hailman,  Ainsworth  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass, 
Reuben  P.  Halleck,  Boys'  High  School,  Louisville,  Ky. 
Rufus  H.  Halsey,  State  Normal  School,  Oshkosh,  Wis. 
Paul  Henry  Hanus,  Harvard  University,   Cambridge,  Mass. 
Ada  VanStone  Harris,  city  schools,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 
W.  H.  Hatch,  Oak  Park,  111. 

Mrs.  Josephine  W.  Heermans,  Brunswick  Hotel,  Kansas  City,  Mo. 
J.  W.  Henninger,  State  Normal  School,  Macomb,  111. 
Walter  L.  Hervey,  320  Manhattan  Avenue,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Edgar  L.  Hewett,  Las  Vegas.  N.  M. 

Albert  R.  Hill,  Missouri  Teachers'  College,  Columbia,  Mo. 
M.  J.  Holmes,  State  Normal  University,  Normal,  111. 
W.  W.  Howe,  White  Hall,  N.  Y. 

Wilbur  S.  Jackman,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 
J.  I.  Jegi,  State  Normal  School,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 


I02  THE  THIRD  YEARBOOK 

Jeremiah  W.  Jenks,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

Lewis  H.  Jones,  State  Normal  College,  Ypsilanti,  Mich. 

Grant  Karr,  State  Normal  School,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

J.  A.  Keith,  Northern  Illinois  State  Normal  School,  DeKalb,  111. 

John  R.  Kirk,  State  Normal  School,  Kirksville,  Mo. 

Henry  E.  Kratz,  Calumet,  Mich. 

Ossian  H.  Lang,  editor,  6i  E.  Ninth  Street,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Isabel  Lawrence,  State  Normal  School,  St.  Cloud,  Minn. 

Homer  P.  Lewis,  superintendent  of  schools,  Worcester,  Mass. 

George  H.  Locke,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Livingston  C.  Lord,  State  Normal  School,  Charleston,  111. 

Charles  D.  Lowry,  307  Touhy  Avenue,  Chicago. 

Herman  T.  Luckens,  State  Normal  School,  California,  Pa. 

G.  W.  A.  Luckey,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

President  E.  O.  Lyte,  State  Normal  School,  Millersville,  Pa. 

John  A.  MacVannel,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

David  R.  Major,  Columbus,  O. 

C  E.  Mann,  St.  Charles,  111. 

Frank  A.  Manny,  Ethical  Culture  Schools,  109  W.  Fifty-fourth  Street,  New 

York,  N.  Y. 
Elizabeth  Mavity,  State  Normal  University,  Normal,  111. 
Guy  E.  Maxwell,  State  Normal  School,  Winona,  Minn. 
William  H.  Maxwell,  superintendent  of  schools.  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Charles  McKenny,  State  Normal  School,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 
Charles  A.  McMurry,  State  Normal  School,  DeKalb,  111. 
Frank  M.  McMurry,  Teachers  College,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Israel  C  McNeil,  State  Normal  School,  West  Superior,  Wis. 
William  A.  Millis,  Crawfordsville,  Ind. 
J.  F.  Millspaugh,  State  Normal  School,  Los  Angeles,  Calif. 
Paul  Monroe,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Will  S.  Monroe,  State  Normal  School,  Westfield,  Mass. 
Ernest  C.  Moore,  University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Calif. 
Frank  Morton,  Lowell  High  School,  San  Francisco,  Calif. 
George  A.  Newton,  superintendent  of  schools,  Greenville,  Tex. 
Theodore  B.  Noss,  State  Normal  School,  California,  Pa. 
M.  V.  O'Shea,  University  of  Wisconsin,  Madison,  Wis. 
Simon  N.  Patten,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
John  H.  Phillips,  Birmingham,  Ala. 
John  T.  Prince,  West  Newton,  Mass. 

J.  F.  Reigart,  109  W.  Fifty-fourth  Street,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
R.  R.  Reeder,  Hastings-on-Hudson,  New  York. 
C.  M.  Richards,  230  W.  One  Hundred  and  Fifth  Street,  New  York,  N.  Y. 


LIST  OF  ACTIVE  MEMBERS  1 03 

Emily  J.  Rice,  School  of  Education,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

R.  N.  Roark,  Kentucky  University,  Lexington,  Ky. 

Stuart  H.  Rowe,  30  Academy  Street,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

J.  E.  Russell,  Teachers  College,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Lucy  M.  Salmon,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y. 

Howard  Sandison,  Terre  Haute,  Ind. 

Myron  T.  Scudder,  State  Normal  School,  New  Paltz,  N.  Y. 

Levi  Seeley,  State  Normal  School,  482  W.  State  Street,  Trenton,  N.  J. 

Burgess  Shank,  Normal  School,  Valley  City,  North  Dakota. 

James  J.  Sheppard,  High  School  of  Commerce,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Waite  A.  Shoemaker,  State  Normal  School,  St.  Cloud,  Minnesota. 

H.  W.  Shryock,  State  Normal  School,  Carbondale,  111. 

Herbert  M.  Slauson,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 

David  E,  Smith,  Teachers  College,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

George  M.  Smith,  University  of  South  Dakota,  Vermillion,  S.  D. 

Z.  X.  Snyder,  State  Normal  School,  Greeley,  Colo. 

F,  Louis  Soldan,  Ninth  and  Locust  Streets,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Edward  D.  Starbuck,  Leland  Stanford  Junior  University,  Palo  Alto,  Calif. 

J.  W.  Stearns,  University  of  Wisconsin,  Madison,  Wis. 

J.  R.  Street,  University  of  Syracuse,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

W.  S.  Sutton,  University  of  Texas,  Austin,  Tex. 

Joseph  S.  Taylor,  2275  Aqueduct  Avenue,  University  Heights,   New   York, 

N.  Y. 
Charles  H.  Thurber,  Ginn  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 
C.  C.  VanLiew,  State  Normal  School,  Chico,  Calif. 
James  H.  VanSickle,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Elmer  W.  Walker,  superintendent  of  State  School  for  the  Deaf,  Delavan,  Wis. 
Sarah  J.  Walter,  Willimantic,  Conn. 
Samuel  Weir,  Clarion  Normal  School,  Clarion,  Pa. 
Guy  Montrose  Whipple,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 
A.  S.  Whitney,  University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 
J.  J.  Wilkinson,  Chicago,  III. 

J.  M.  Wilkinson,  State  Normal  School,  Emporia,  Kan. 
Lightner  Witmer,  University  of   Pennsylvania,   Philadelphia,   Pa. 
L.  E.  Wolfe,  San  Antonio,  Tex. 
O.  I.  Woodley,  Menominee,  Mich. 


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